


Pokémon Iron: Karkat and The Never-Ending Nightmare

by tavrosdidnothingwrong



Series: Pokémonstuck [1]
Category: Homestuck, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Alola-chihou | Alola Region (Pokemon), Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society (Homestuck), Alternate Universe - Pokemon Fusion, F/F, Kantou-chihou | Kanto Region (Pokemon), M/M, Slow Burn, Team Rocket (Pokemon), Troll Psychics, Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 45,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26117344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tavrosdidnothingwrong/pseuds/tavrosdidnothingwrong
Summary: When Gamzee gains possession of the powerful Darkrai, Karkat journeys to Kanto to stop his reign of terror. Pewter City gym leader Dave joins the battle.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Gamzee Makara & Karkat Vantas, Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam, Terezi Pyrope/Vriska Serket
Series: Pokémonstuck [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1910128
Comments: 18
Kudos: 40





	1. Prologue: Paradise Planet

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to finally write the crossover I've always needed.
> 
> If you're here and you've read my works before, hey! It’s been a while. Unfortunately, last summer I lost access to most of the documents/drafts for my WIPs. I'm slowly working on re-writing everything I had, but in the meantime, this Davekat AU has been taking over my soul for the last few months. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy ♡

> Hello there.

Welcome to the world of Pokémon. A world inhabited by creatures and humans - and aliens - living and working together in harmony. For some, Pokémon are pets. For others, they are used for great displays of teamwork and strength in battle. For all, Pokémon are the guiding force behind events on Earth. Time, space, antimatter. Knowledge, emotion, willpower. These are the domains that govern the universe, that bind a trainer and its Pokémon in unity.

Our journey begins in the Alola region, made up of five islands: Melemele, Akala, Ula’Ula’ Poni, and Summoner’s Paradise. Though the hero of our narrative lives in present day Alola, in order to understand his story, we must first journey to the past, to figures of legend. The Dolorosa was the first of her alien race, known colloquially as trolls, to make contact and communicate with Pokémon. And to understand her story, we must journey to another universe entirely.

> Be The Dolorosa

Your name is The Dolorosa, you are the Grand Auxillatrix of the Alternanian Empire, and you are nearing the end of your lifespan. These have been dire centuries, spent under the cruel, violent rule of the Empress.

Over the millennia, your eugenics-loving Empress grew so disgusted with Mother Grubs producing lowbloods – in fact, in the brood that would be the last straw, a mutant was born and ordered to be killed – she destroyed the entire planet and all the young with it, with the help of The Grand Highblood. She, the surviving adults, and one last matriorb remained in space, continuing their imperial conquest over the universe.

The keeper of that matriorb is you. Privately outraged by the needless slaughter of youth, you are a double agent, looking after the future of the species on behalf of the Empire as well as furthering plans for the dispersion of said Empire.

You have in your possession, unbeknownst to your fellow Jadebloods, three young larval grubs that were part of the last on-planet brood: one fuchsia, one of your sign, and one bright red. You spend enough time alone with grubs, given your high authority, that you were around for these rare finds.

Of course, law dictated that you should disembowel bright red grubs on sight. But ever since the unjust hanging of your dear friend Neophyte Redglare, at the hand of the system that she dedicated her life to, you do not care much for law. Treason be damned.

So those unlawful grubs you keep close, in secret. As close as the eye you constantly have on the emergency release hatch for the matriorb, the escape pod in your quarters, and the lusii eggs you've been incubating for sweeps: two of each color, including one of a very important mutant strain. As soon as you got word from The Summoner that the rebellion was underfoot, you would break the hatch, and break free.

Your last report from The Summoner, Second Commander of the Cavalreapers, would be as follows:The bronzeblood was looking for “one last planet to conquest” - he had already been conquering on his own, but only those that were desolate, long devoid of life. Masking their locations on the Empress’s scanners by using rebel goldblood technology, it was on these planets he was setting up his troops. He was on his way to the last establishment, in the brink another universe, when he came upon Pokémon Earth, never visible to his naked eye before.

Mindfang's journals, the best known historical source for The Summoner's insurrection, say the bronze always dreamed of a place where Fiduspawn and trolls lived peacefully on a paradise planet. Little did he know it was humans and Pokémon, but finding that paradise would be the last and critical step in his resistance.

After sending the planet's coordinates to you for safekeeping, The Summoner calls his armies to rise. With a stolen quarter of the Empress's ships and troops, they cloak themselves in their technology until they arrive to ambush her Fleet, once and for all.

The galactic civil war would go on to wipe out 99.9% of adult trolls, including The Condesce herself, and The Summoner. History books say The Grand Highblood was also killed, but almost any of today's Earth Subjuggulators would tell you that he's still alive somewhere.

You are the only confirmed adult survivor of your race. Redglare told you this fate once, one of her many prophecies, but perhaps, you had too much hope in the revolution to believe it.

You have been in your escape pod for two sweeps since, slowly traveling towards the edge of your universe. In a proper ship equipped with the speed of light, it would only take days. But alas. You enter the starboard chamber of the ship, where Feferi, Porrim, and Kankri are resting. The lusii eggs lay snug between them, warmed and incubated by the heat of their bodies. Everything you’re doing will be worth it, for them.

When your ship arrives in range of the coordinates, you cannot see the planet. Temporarily distressed, you almost turn on the communication dashboard. You miss The Summoner so.

Suddenly, your ship is approached by a strange spatial creature. These must be the Earth Fiduspawn he mentioned. Sleek, orange and teal tendrils make up its body, its eyes deep and dark. It floats before your windshield, staring at you in wonder.

And then, you hear its intelligent voice. Somehow, this being uses telepathic signals that you can discern. It asks you why you are here, so you explain your race’s plight. The Pokémon understands. Tells you it will communicate with other mythological beings like itself, and get back to you.

That it does in a matter of hours, leading you and the future of your kind into the new realm. Now that Deoxys has sensed your character, your trust, you can clearly see the atmosphere, blue and bright and lush.

Deoxys brings you to a scattering of islands, where Tapu Koko, Tapu Bulu, Tapu Lele, and Tapu Fini are assembled, awaiting your arrival. The Alolan Guardians are especially empathetic to your stories of war, having waged such war amongst each other in the past, and welcome the birth of the matriorb on their islands.

You, however, will not stay in the new world long. You know it’s almost time.

After giving you a crash course in the English language - much simpler than your own, no trouble for your ancient mind - the Guardians lead you to meetings with human leaders around the world, where you verbosely tell them of your history, over and over, regretting every story that leaves your lips. The human world can be violent too, you learn, and Pokémon major sources of natural disaster, but none of it is at your scale of brutality. You can tell by the humans’ wary, sympathetic stares. Some even cry, though you aren't sure if it's in admiration or fear.

But you impress upon them, thoroughly, that you are escaping such violence. That you will not see your progeny carry the same curse. That you are not hatched to kill.

Peacekeeping laws are drawn up with regional governments, with the mediative assistance of the Guardians, such that humans could not interfere with troll reproduction on Alola, and trolls could not reinstate the hemospectrum hierarchy. The young would be given a chance to prove themselves, to integrate into society, and would be given all the rights of humans. Some traditions of your planet would remain, such as schoolfeeding processes, biological necessities like sopor slime, and the duty of Jadebloods to raise the Mother Grubs. 

You take care of Feferi, Kankri and Porrim through their cocooning. In a laboratory space provided by the Guardians, on an artificial island called Aether Paradise, you begin writing journals to them in your native tongue, the basis of their future education. On the day of their pupation – the day the lusii eggs hatch, as well – you feel the life being lifted from your body at last. You are so weak, you cannot even hold them.

You cannot explain to them, either, what death means. That you’ll never see them again. You tell them to stay strong, to always know peace, to always remember. Honor the heroes who died in the revolution, honor the land you’ve been given, honor Pokémon and humans as friends. And above all, love without fear.

> 25 years later

Trolls in the Pokémon world are still birthed by Mother Grubs every sweep, where a sweep is only one year, a synonym for the species’ symbiotic passage of time. Voluntary genetic material collection is conducted in Alolan cities and towns to donate to the birth of a new Grub. It’s considered an honor to donate, but no young adult is forced to.

On the day of The Dolorosa’s death, she was given a grand procession on Aether Paradise, after which the island was renamed Summoner’s Paradise, one of her last requests. As such, matriorb hatching still takes place at Paradise, organized by a passionate generation of young Jades, and bolstered on by Feferi Peixes, the youngest Alolan Governess in history.

Trolls and humans alike learn the history of Alternia in schools. While most students of both species view The Dolorosa’s stories as a cautionary tale, there are some trolls who wonder what would’ve been. Given that their biology is suited to that lifestyle, why not make more of an effort to return to it? Why not, say, believe that the hemospectrum does have a hierarchical order, that alludes to more than just longer lifespans and stronger psychics? Feferi has maintained that all blood colors are created equal, and that adopting human societal rules is “the least we can do, as guests.” But a scattered, rising dissension has been spreading.

As has always been in Alola, instead of a Pokémon league, there are two competitive rounds called trials, and one final test of your strength against the Island Kahuna. Trolls quickly proved their skill with Pokémon as soon as the first brood was old enough to train, many using their psychics to strengthen the bond of their teams. It’s not uncommon to find an Island trial that consists of only trolls, in fact.

On Ula’Ula', for example, you first face silent trial leader Kurloz, who commands a totem Mimikyu in a former abandoned ghost town, which Alolan Subjuggulators restored and brought whimsy to. Trial leader Meulin, whose Pokémon all have the ability Soundproof, has developed a vicious synergy with her team, despite not being able to hear herself. And Kahuna Mituna suffered brain damage from overuse of his psionics in his teens, but don’t doubt the power of his dual totem Meowstic, or his quick bifurcated tongue.

While all trolls are hatched on Alola, many have begun to migrate freely to mainland regions. Since Kanto is the home of the original Pokémon League, it’s become popular in troll culture to move there once you’ve reached adulthood. Or better yet, at ten sweeps, when you’re of age to leave your lusus and begin your Pokémon journey.

Some trolls are perfectly happy spending their entire journey on the islands. Others choose to leave for new adventures, and still others are called by destiny to other regions. There is one such troll, who goes by the name of Karkat Vantas, who was called to Kanto not just by destiny, but by the power of two mysterious mythical Pokémon, battling in shadows.

It is only on his twenty second wriggling day that he'll receive the call. Leaving his childhood hive in Malie City, followed by a loyal Growlithe, Karkat Vantas heads to Port Ula'Ula' with a one way ticket on the S.S. Cinnabar. Though he goes in search of a long lost friend, his very own legend is about to unfold.


	2. I Choose You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat arrives in Kanto to determine the cause of the Nightmare Pandemic and Gamzee’s involvement. Team Rocket agents Vriska and Terezi confront him. Dave intervenes.

> Be Karkat

You cannot be Karkat. This troll is currently asleep at a desk, hunched over in a way that cannot be good on his neck, drooling puddles next to his husktop. There is a neat, red recuperacoon in this respiteblock, its slimy, green surface looking long untouched by an occupant.

You think this troll is dreaming, given that two black thought bubbles float above his head, surrounded by Z's.

> Examine the bubbles closer

In one is a pair of cyan eyes, blinking slow. In the other is a troll symbol, a purple Capricorn. Whatever is going on in this guy's thinkpan, he doesn't appear to be enjoying it. His brow is furrowed, two sharp fangs digging into his lip when he exhales from a hard snore. You notice that he's begun to bite so hard, bright red blood is starting to form.

Man, you wish you could find out what was plaguing him so much. Maybe if you just think about it hard enough, you could...

> Enter Karkat's dream

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you can’t move. You lie on your back in a hollow room, so dark that you can’t tell wall from floor. However long you’ve been here, it feels like an eternity. A strange, thick atmosphere holds you down, making it hard to breathe, making you drip sweat.

But a purple light begins to glow overhead. Once it’s bright enough that your entire surrounding is violet, the weight subsides and you can rise in the room. But you seem to be in some sort of liquid environment, so light that you don’t feel wet, so thin that you can breathe.

You swim through the darker gradient up towards the light. Before you’re too far, droplets of red start to float across your field of vision. Sick to your stomach, you check your body for incisions. But you find none, and you know why.

It’s happening again. You hear its cry, feel it reverberate through you.

“Growlithe? Fuck, Growlithe, where are you?”

You swim faster through light and blood, further in no direction you can determine. You smell it, iron thick on your palate, before you see it.

The cuts are criss-crossed, like the actor intentionally painted along its black stripes. Covering its face is a harlequin mask. As soon as you reach out to hold your friend, he vanishes, leaving drops of blood in his wake.

A gust of wind propels you downward. You freefall through the space, the light becoming darkness the further you go. Your sweater, doused in glowing red, sends rivulets dancing into the air around you, twisting in pairs to form strands of DNA.

Your body makes impact with a black body of water. You hold your breath tight and scramble to the surface, only to find that the surface is suddenly gone.

Panicked, you gurgle and splash, but are soon encased in a bubble of air. It’s so uncomfortably small that you’re folded in on yourself, joints cramping in ways you didn’t even know they could. The bubble then travels with you in it, still in no direction you can determine. You feel increasingly claustrophobic, short of breath, moreso than you did in the room.

[Strange carnival music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q5gjYuJrfbc) begins to play as you float through the dark. When the pained cry of your Feraligatr begins to punctuate the notes, your gut instinct to pop the bubble and find it takes over. You swing your arms violently, but the case of the bubble only expands with you, coating your sleeves in slick, soapy goo.

Exhausted in time, you give up. Cerulean light starts to glow, oceanic, seaweed all around. Hundreds of Goldeen wearing harlequin masks swim fast around your bubble, dodging you like darts, the impact tossing your bubble around. They're running away from something. Whatever you're headed towards.

When they finally clear, you find yourself at the sight of an intergalactic shipwreck. Black smears of oil spill from massive rafters.

You recognize this ship from history books. The Alternian Fleet.

Dhelmise and Jellicent hauntingly float, their bodies leaking the blood of the hemospectrum. The purple blood flourishes, makes its way towards you, coating your bubble in its chroma, so thick that you can’t see.

“Why?” you call out, even though you know he won’t hear. This is not his design, not entirely.

When the blood clears, you are at the site of another ruined scene: a vast purple landscape with spires and interlocking tunnels, structures damaged beyond repair. There are corpses everywhere, strange black figures in pools of red, harlequin Dusknoir scavenging the souls left behind.

The sea around you grows dark once more, the escaping Goldeen scarcer and scarcer. Soon you can no longer see anything, except -

A white dot, far up ahead. You can only hope that this is your way out, and it very well may be, but not for the reasons you think.

The closer you get, the more you realize what you’re headed towards is massive, tendriled, the size of a town: Gl’bgolyb, the ancient Fuchsia lusus of legend. Her ominous hums grows louder and louder, buzzing in your head, throbbing with pain, so much that you scream. The bubble doesn’t stop until it gets all the way in to Gl’bgolyb’s head, where it opens its massive jaws as if to swallow you.

As if in response, the bubble around you pops, sending you plummeting in darkness again. But this time, you know you won’t stop. You brace yourself for the end, for the landing that never sticks...

> Wake up

Your name is Karkat Vantas. Until now, you hadn’t slept in three nights.

You sit upright at your dancestor’s desk, coated in the newspaper clippings you’ve been collecting. That crick in your neck is really gonna suck later. Your purple husktop is glowing and moving in place, the grub from the news app slithering in its port. It’s your third night in Pallet Town, but you don't think it hit you how far you are from home until you fell asleep.

You look out the window, turquoise glow of dawn in the sky. You curse yourself for falling asleep at night, again, as you’ve been working to readjust yourself away from a daytime schedule. Not to mention, it’s no longer safe to sleep at night. Now you’ll have find to something to do in here until the sun sets. Team Rocket has, supposedly, been taking advantage of the day.

Pallet Town is comically small. You can see the start and the end of town wherever you stand. Your dancestor’s hive is a modest two-story one-recuperacoon, white interior, pink exterior, perfectly ordinary. All the hives here are low, pastel, and nearly identical, slated roofs and square lawns and white fences. Even the ones the trolls live in look more like human houses than hives. The only building that stands out is the famous Oak Laboratory.

Kankri is letting you stay in his respite for your Kanto travels. Or, more like, Porrim strongarmed him into letting you somehow, insisting he just stay with her. But, as you expected, you've said no words to Kankri since you got here, nor he to you when he gave you the keys. It was your first in person meeting, and as has been the rest of your relationship, it was uneventful. Kankri really only exists to you as an anomaly in the species, just like you, but though your share a rare mutation, you think you're as different as trolls come. You've had exactly three Pesterchum conversations, which those who've read them (Kanaya and Porrim) say are the most excessively worded arguments in history.

Look, all you're ever saying about him is, this is Earth, not Alternia. Know your history, but live in the present as much as you can.

Your present, unfortunately, is not going too well. It hasn’t been ever since your lifelong morail left. You're here to try and get closure. You need to stay awake.

There's a worldwide shortage of sopor slime due to the Kanto region's Nightmare Pandemic. All trolls and humans experience some mild form of nightmares - showing up to schoolfeeding naked, running out of Pokéballs in front of a Legend, your hive catching fire - but the strain being experienced in Kanto is especially disturbing, from the reports. Plus, they’re worse for trolls, as the sopor slime production chain has been severely crippled, with no end in sight.

Rationing has been taking place in Alola for a perigee, even though there are no known cases. You're already prone to insomnia, because you used less than the recommended dosage living in a hive with Gamzee. But Porrim told you when you got here that Kanto trolls are "legally encouraged" to only use 1/16th of the recommended dosage. You said that sounded criminal, and basically fucking water. Porrim said it was mostly necessary, but that wealthier trolls were hoarding, making things worse for everyone else.

Your husktop emits three ugly, squelching beeps. Battery very low, Growlithe chewed through the charger again last night, same old same old. Before your husktop dies, you pick back up with the news story you were about to read when you dozed:

**“The Rise of The Bad Dream:** Infamous Kanto Leader Gamzee Makara May Be In Possession of Impossible Pokémon

by Mallek Adalov

April 13, 2020 - Kanto’s Nightmare Pandemic began last December, when an increasing number of doctors and therapists realized that patients were reporting an excess of Nightmares. Similar themes or symbols appear in these dreams, such as black jester dolls, unknown sources of laughter, historical troll locations, and losing loved ones. Symptoms include insomnia, sleep paralysis, vertigo, anxiety, high blood pressure, and something researchers are calling increased sleep sensitivity (ISS), wherein dreamers feel pain and other uncomfortable sensations caused by the “fiction.” The only discovered reprieve to the Nightmares is sleeping during sunny hours rather than at night, but there's no guarantee of shelter. Trolls, humans, and some Pokémon are succeptible. At least PokéMart has taken the opportunity to introduce a tasty new line of [super strength ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ooNlLzm2wRA)[vitamin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ooNlLzm2wRA)[ energy drinks](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ooNlLzm2wRA).

Pokémon researchers across the world began immediately searching for a possible Nightmare source from one of our friends, Musharna or Lunala the leading theories. But troll Professor Tyzias Entykk of Hoenn is now pushing the pack, as she has spent the last eight years studying the pitch-black Pokémon known as Darkrai. Her research had previously been discarded by the scientific community for being too unfounded, due to the questionable nature of Darkrai’s existence in the first place. No one has credibly reported seeing it in hundreds of years, and for some reason, no one is able to find photographic evidence of the Pokémon, not even artwork. It’s said that if you try to draw it from memory, the drawing will disappear, a trait shared by the similarly dubious Marshadow. The only reason Darkrai hasn’t been declassified as a Pokémon is because of existing word-of-mouth accounts like these. In some corners of the world, you can still find children who hear these stories today, handed down by generations.

Darkrai was said to have an exclusive Move called Dark Void. In battle, it put any foes around it to sleep, no matter how many, for a radius that could reach hundreds of miles, if it wished. Once targets were asleep, its Bad Dreams Ability would passively drain them of their HP while it focused on attacks, sending their asleep souls to a strange, alternate dream dimension. That’s all fine and well, and the longer we experience this Pandemic, it’s a more and more likely source of all this trouble. So what’s Gamzee Makara got to do with it?

Gamzee isn’t at his gym in Viridian, and hasn’t been for four perigees. In fact, the same night he vanished from his hive in Saffron City, the first wave of Nightmares began. Well known for his miraculous chucklevoodoo psychics, Gamzee has been able to increase a Pokémon’s base stats via communion to up to ten times their original number. This ability has required him to live deep within the community of Subjuggulators, who offer him protection from those who might try to harness his power for themselves and use it for ill purpose. If left unattended, dozens if not hundreds of people approach Gamzee in public, most in good show, but not all, asking him to give their Pokémon “the Gift,” which he did by, somehow, taking naps with them.

Continuous threads have been emerging that Gamzee is currently training at the peak of Mt. Silver. Two Subjugglator whistleblowers corroborate that he’s come down the mountain once to appear at a Carnival event and religious service in Saffron, just like the one scheduled about a week from tonight. There have also been reports that the Capricious is inviting select people to battle for his badge on the mountain, but those invitations are so far and few between, they’re hard to verify as official. One of the alleged four Pokégear battle requests from him was found to be faked, while the alleged owners of the others have not yet agreed to speak to the media.

The rest of the Kanto leaders, meanwhile, seem to be at a loss as to whether or not to include the eighth badge in League consideration. The Viridian gym stays empty, the occasional peaceful protestors gathering and asking for another audition, while Champion Dirk Strider and the Four struggle to come up with a solution that appeases everyone. This is because, when he became Champion, Dirk ratified an article to the Four’s constitution that would allow the Champion to vote on issues, breaking any ties. The problem with that is, according to Elite Meenah Peixes, that “someone like Dirk” should not be the moral make or break on these kinds of split decisions. Before he won, under her Championship as well as Gary Oak's, ties were a sign that the issue being voted on was “probably stupid” and should be left as is, which surprisingly held up a number of times.

Dirk Strider is also still facing pressure from the public to change the Elite Four's competition hours. They have always been from 6 a.m. to 9 p.m., but with most Kantonians now starting their “days” at sundown, this gives new challengers little time to get through Victory Road to reach them. People have been signing petitions, demanding that the five member vote be redone, but Dirk refuses to buckle, and each of the Four have so far stated that their votes would be the same. In an interview with _The Detective Pikachu Inquirer_ last month, Dirk defended his stance:

“If we secede to his passive threats, he’ll only be empowered to increase the strength of the Nightmares. The vote stands, my vote won’t change. He won’t see the Champion give him leeway.”

His stance has encouraged Governor Sugimori to relax the emergency law mandating nighttime gym hours, which were controversial among some leaders. Some, like Aradia and Nepeta, are keeping gyms open 24 hours to accommodate both schedules. But others, like Eridan and Sollux, immediately returned their hours to pre-Nightmare daytime schedules.

Because Gamzee never formally quit in Viridian – a trait he shares with the only other leader in history to do so, Giovanni – if he were to return and find that the Four had replaced him, they would be in violation of at least three property laws. Though they almost never purchase the properties for themselves as individuals, leaders are all considered owners of their gyms until they resign from their posts, meaning they can turn the properties into partial residences if desired.

Such is this that there’s a theory Team Rocket has been using the Viridian gym as a base ever since the Pandemic, that Gamzee “sold” it to them. It’s no secret that Gamzee is a direct descendant of the Grand Highblood, the alleged establisher of the sole Alternian religion, and though no direct collaboration has been proven between the two parties, they can be seen together these days, if you go out in the day. The church has made several statements denying any criminal activity, even when not asked - ”

You stop. You are so annoyed with the Viridian Observer – Kanto in general – for its inane cognitive dissonance. All these “allegedlies" and “nothing has been confirmed,” even though you know, everyone knows, that Team Rocket has been a staple of the region for as long as you've been alive, at least. You don’t have to watch Kanto TV for more than five minutes before you see a background extra in full Rocket regalia; they’re game show contestants, store clerks, law unabiding citizens. They're everywhere. It's almost like Kanto thinks only ten year olds read the news.

Quotes from Officer Jenny, plural, litter your gander bulbs next. Stating that they are doing everything in their power to keep Team Rocket under control, and to further search for the missing Makara. But you know from other research that the Kanto police department is underfunded this year, doesn’t have the resources.

You think about xenophobia in the Pokémon world, which for you has been nonexistent, but which Team Rocket seems intent on either artificially or unnecessarily spreading. You will give so-called “Alternian nationalists” one or two of their points, relating to the challenges of growing up on a planet that wasn’t designed for you. Trolls have adjusted to diurnal living despite being genetically programmed to be nocturnal, they learn another language in school, Alternian and Beforan dialects. The challenges are easy for most trolls to take on, you don't think you're better than any human because of your adjustments.

But Alola, you’ve realized, is a bubble of troll friendliness. Some in the rest of the world don’t see Feferi as having the same power as the other regional Governors. That’s probably less out of some specific spite and more about the fact that other regions have a 1-5% troll population, while Alola already has 70%. It's why you, Gamzee and Kanaya have always stayed in your hatchplace.

Until now.

You are here to defeat the seven gym leaders of Kanto in order to send Gamzee a battle challenge. If he hadn't thrown his Pokégear and every other piece of tech he owned away a sweep ago, you would request him yourself. But according to your sources, requests for the eighth contest have to be delivered in person, in writing, to the League Office in Viridian, and somehow, they get delivered to him from there. You don't know why this is a thing, since it seems like he just rejects or doesn't answer the vast majority.

You knew that the moment he stepped on Kanto’s shores, he was going to win the contest in Viridian – and this was before you knew about “the Gift” in such technical terms. His hemotype’s psychics have always been a force, on humans, trolls and Pokémon alike – and at twenty two sweeps, a minuscule fraction of his projected lifespan, Gamzee hasn’t even fully realized the power.

But you know him, really know him. Without outside influence, without succumbing to the darkness foretold by his ancestor, Gamzee Makara doesn't have a violent bone in his body. Always gentle, always too giving. Saturdays when he would cook feasts for you and your hivehold, every Saturday for sixteen sweeps, glowing meats and confections so decadent and rich, you'd fall into a happy coma after. He took care of you.

Earth trolls loosely follow the quadrants from history books – as far as you know, you’re still biologically constructed to feel romance that way – but growing up with humans and their girth of romantic cinema, it can be hard not to admire their more monolithic views of love. Black relationships are much less common between you now because of humans’ view on relationship violence, PDA almost never shown in mixed spaces. The red and pale quadrants get confused for many of you, and many besides you are unsure how much they should even bother governing it.

You were lucky to know that Gamzee was very much only your morail. Zero desire to pail him and vice versa. According to the stories from your human Paradise liasion – one of many scientists who facilitated reproduction until trolls were old enough to manage – you and him were just always together. From the night you were hatched, you moved in tandem everywhere, and you personally threw a fit post-cocoon when you learned you wouldn’t be neighbors, which was changed to appease you. You don’t remember any of that. You just knew you’d always had a happy life with him, not without trouble, but for all intents and purposes, he was your person.

And then one day, he just left.

Growing up, he was carefree in all things to the point of lazy complacence. But you have also seen that Gamzee has bursts of reverent passion, a one track mind when he puts his mind to something, like you, or the baffling clown religion. Gamzee has always believed that “the Mirthful Messiahs will return to the faithful, no matter what planet they roam, for where two or more are all being like a gathering, we are motherfucking there.” But you thought it was hyperbolic, more than a sinister calling he’d answer one day.

Whatever this Pandemic may or may not have to do with Darkrai, no matter how deep in some psychosis or relapse Gamzee could be, you know one thing: this kind of widespread terror wasn’t once what he wanted for himself. At all.

You hear the scattered, telltale scratches of Growlithe bounding up the stairs. It rushes through the door, making the room degrees hotter, and nearly tackles you off your chair in excitement.

“Alright, alright,” you shoosh him, watching as he paces and pants around your desk in a crescent, “I’m awake.”

You’ve always considered yourself a Pokémon minimalist. You don’t collect them, don’t breed or enter pageants, and you’ve only caught four your entire life. You have special connections with each, and very unusual origin stories. Growlithe’s was one for the books.

> Ten sweeps ago

You were twelve sweeps old, watering the Morelull outside your hive, when you heard a low, rumbling growl from somewhere behind.

You turned to find a Growlithe, which to your knowledge weren't even native to Ula'Ula, standing a few feet away from your yard, fluffy tail waving, snout pointed at you. You didn't have any rocks on hand to scare it away, but even if you did, you doubted it would work. Everyone knows Growlithe are persistent.

It barked and barked, so you yelled back at it, until it got so fed up with your stalemate, it spit flames at the Morelull. You threw your watering can at it and it just scorched that too, crisping it to black debris in seconds even though it was metal.

You backed away slowly, then at about halfway, booked it to your porch, but the puppy was quick behind. Somehow you made it just in time, slamming the screen door, which you half expected it to burn though. Instead, it continued to bark, pausing only to look at you expectantly.

“What?! As far as you’re concerned, no, I don’t have any food. You start feeding annoying strays and they get too comfortable!”

It lowered its head and whined, still expectant, but of what you had no idea.

“Fine, hang out there all you want, but if you start burning holes though my walls - “

You’d what? Have the remains of the hive to show for it?

You closed the door, but you couldn’t stay focused on your romance novel anymore. Paranoid, you kept checking the window beside the door, lifting the heavy light-restricting curtains to peer out with one eye. There it still sat, wapping its tail at the deck, as if it knew you’d be out soon. Who was this douchebag?

Gamzee came around two hours later, using the entrance to your meal block instead.

“Hey, uh, best bro? You know you got a motherfucking visitor, right? I came ‘round the backways ‘cause the sweet lil’ thing started barking at me.”

“Oh, god, it’s still out there? I’d ask to get your ugly Foongus out to help, but blatant type disadvantage aside, it would probably Poison you again ‘on accident’ before it ever aimed at the actual target!”

“Aw, it ain’t no purpose to that. Actually I’m starting to motherfucking feel like I like it a little.”

“ _What?”_

“It gets to feeling like all tingly and my ganders seeing purple stars. It’s like magic bro, I’m telling you.“

“You know what, why am I surprised? This from the guy who poisons himself daily.”

Gamzee successfully distracted you for a while – reeling you back in to your human romcom marathon when you tried to go check – but when he inevitably fell asleep from his potent dinner pie, you went to check again.

Still there, sitting quietly. Now it had its face turned away from the door, watching whatever was going on out in the ocean that you couldn’t see, or smell. It didn’t seem to realize you were behind it. You spent a few minutes staring before finally opening the door, staying behind the screen.

“Hey, are you lost?” It threw itself at the screen in excitement, scratching at the surface and tearing minute holes. “Hey, stop that!” Which only caused the barks again, and did not stop it.

“I’m not the kind of bitchbaby coward who feels the need to use a repel, but if I _did_ have an emergency stash for extremely dangerous emergencies, you would be so fucking repelled, you would rip yourself from spacetime to get away from me!”

You actually didn’t use them because they sort of made you feel bad. You weren’t a big wild Pokémon fan or anything, but it obviously irritated them.

Growlithe stopped barking, and scratching. While how exactly most Pokémon parsed spoken language was debatable, this one seemed to be especially tuned to your words. It started pacing around in circles on your porch, panting eagerly.

“You wanna stay out here all night? Fine by me! But just remember what I said about the repel. Spacetime. Ripped.”

In the morning, for some reason, when you saw it asleep in the rocking chair on your porch, orange fur glowing in the sunrise, you became horribly sad. It no longer seemed so harmful when it was resting. What if it really was lost? Maybe it had a trainer who used to live in this area or something.

Cautiously, still holding your mug of black coffee, you stepped out. It didn’t immediately wake at your presence, so you allowed yourself to get closer, kneeling beside the chair. Close enough to see the rise and fall of its back with every breath. You didn't have your Dex on hand, but you could tell it was still young.

Gamzee, who must’ve just now realized that you left the meal block, came out too.

“I think this motherfucker likes you,” he said from behind.

“Shush.”

But the sound of his voice had already woken it. It moved slowly, stretching and yawning, making this little sound that was objectively the cutest fucking thing you’d ever heard. What was happening to you?

“Know anything about it?” Gamzee said.

You shook your head. “But I think maybe it knows this place. Don’t they have like these insane scent tracking abilities? My hive might not have been here when it was last. It certainly thought it had a right to my land when it started hurling fireballs.”

Gamzee whistled, gaining you and the Pokémon’s attention, then handed you your Pokédex, and one of his Great balls.

“I think you just got chosen, best friend.”

“No. What part of ‘I don’t want a Pokémon yet’ is unclear?”

“But why though? And don’t be all motherfucking saying that it’s ‘cause you don’t think you’ll be good at it no ways.”

You didn’t even know why he was saying that to you. He practically lived with you. If he wasn’t the most permanently unbothered soul in the universe, he’d see your prickly personality for what it was. You, a decent caretaker to anyone besides him? You thought not.

“What makes you think I’d be a good trainer? You know most of them scare me, even the fucking Jumpluff. Don’t laugh! They sneak up on you, not to mention the horrible allergies!”

Growlithe spoke up too when you raised your voice, directing its shouts at Gamzee.

“See, it’s being like to stand up for you already.”

“I’ll – hey, fuck off!” You paused when suddenly, Growlithe felt compelled to lick your face. “I’ll think about it. If it isn’t gone by tomorrow.”

And of course, it wasn’t.

Today, just as stubborn as the day you met, Growlithe won’t enter a ball and refuses to evolve. You’ve long since given up on buying him Fire Stones, because somehow, he fights the process so hard that they don’t work, and at level 95, your window for encouraging him to grow is starting to close.

Not long after you caught him on your porch – it was the only time he’d let you put him in a ball, for formality’s sake – you and Growlithe started going to the beach on the opposite side of Ula’Ula, more deserted, to train. You loved to watch it blow massive walls of fire that stood their ground along the crash of the shore. Most human adults, troll trial leaders, would later tell you that it had abnormal levels of power. You know now that that's mostly because Growlithe has perfect IVs in Attack and Special Attack, a very rare occurrence for a Pokémon found in the wild.

But you also believe the old adage, no matter how hard it is to prove scientifically: the love between a Pokémon and its trainer determines its true ability. Willpower fucking works.

> Receive Growlithe into your lap

Growlithe jumps onto your lap in front of the desk with little to no grace. His claws jab into your thighs as he licks your face with its too hot tongue, his tail sweeping newspaper clippings onto the floor. You can’t even be mad. It really is time you started doing something besides organizing these events into pointless patterns. You’ve been in here for too long.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve been sitting on my gastric evacuation pillow for too long and you need to get out there to sniff out everyone’s life story and terrorize Rattatta.”

Growlithe hums, low and disappointed, nudging your cheek with the cream floof on its head.

"Later on today," you say. "Okay? I promise."

Growlithe hops to the floor, curls up around the leg of your chair. Your best friend isn't disappointed because he wants to go out and play, at least not more than this: he's disappointed that it’s been so long since you've let yourself feel the sun.

You check on your other three Pokémon, fastened to your belt, activating but not throwing each ball in your hands. Doing so opens a portal for you to view the digital environment that’s adapted to form around them. Feraligatr is still sleeping in his Heavy ball's oceanic seafloor, his scarred eyelid twitching the way it always does. Because of his old age, it takes a day or two longer to rest than your others. By Porrim's calculation, he's nearing 200 sweeps.

Two sweeps after finding Growlithe, you and your partner were exploring the tide pools in Route 14, when you saw the old Feraligatr crawl to shore from the ocean, deeply injured, bleeding from its eye and one of its legs. Your adrenaline and fear for its life somehow overtook your fear of Pokémon as massive as it was. You bandaged one worn-skinned leg to the best of your ability - it _let you,_ zero resistance _-_ and when you went around to its other side to check on the opposite back leg, you found that it almost had none, a stump cut off jaggedly at the knee joint.

Feraligatr fell asleep during your application of salve to the amputation site. But you could tell due to the necrosis that it hadn't had a leg there in a long time. You tried to wake it to inspect its bleeding eye, gashed deeply by some kind of claw, but it was snoring loudly, too in pain to restart, and you didn't want to pry it open. You waited with it while it slept, while the Pokémon center ambulance was on its way to you. And the biggest surprise of all: Growlithe was completely at ease around the creature. The same Growlithe who notoriously didn't get along with other Pokémon, not even Gamzee's, not even Porrim's Manaphy. As you heard the sirens coming over the cliffside, you watched as Growlithe hummed sadly at the Feraligatr, and curled up next to it to sleep as well.

Pyukumuku is at full health and friendliness in its Lure Ball, bouncing itself along the low cliffs at the edge of its shoreline environment. This is her memory of the location where you usually fish for Luvdisc on your island, because you can trade them to the move tutor, where you accidentally found her when you were sixteen. The first time you caught it on the line instead of what you wanted, you thought it was ugly and released it back. When you caught it a second and third time, you suspected it was fucking with you. When you caught it a fourth, it tried to spray you with Toxic and Soak, so Feraligatr stepped in and weakened it with a controlled Hydro Pump.

You were going to throw it back and give up on fishing, but you waited, because Feraligatr walked over to the injured Pokémon, still attached to your line in the sand. Feraligatr unhooked it with a level of jaw dexterity that probably shouldn’t've been possible, and brought it beside you by rolling it over with its snout, which you thought was funny. When you told him you didn’t think you wanted this sassy ass spike orb in your hive, Feraligatr seemed to want you to keep her, and well, you couldn’t deny him a thing. When you sent the catch data to Porrim, she called you to tell you "congratulations," you’d just caught your first shiny Pokémon. You thanked Feraligatr for shielding your ignorance.

And Alolan Cubone’s environment, in her Dusk ball, is black. You can see nothing but her photoimage, sleeping curled into a tight ball. This has been happening for the last few perigees, whereas before her surroundings resembled what looked to you to be the infamous burned tower in Eutreak City, Johto. Why there? You’ve never understood. But Porrim says that when a Pokémon’s moods and friendship are low, they’re sometimes unable to spend the effort on thinking about an environment.

You don’t blame Cubone for being sad, really. She isn’t supposed to exist, and you think she’s starting to understand that.

You let Pyukumuku and Cubone out of their balls, and they and Growlithe run downstairs, to the “Pokémony door” embedded in Kankri’s meal block entrance and leading to the tiny backyard; Cubone carries Pyukumuku in its little arms as it goes, as it often does. They’re sort of a pair. You wait until you hear the bells on the backyard gate ring.

Then sigh, releasing your held breath.

This nightmare. This is the fifth one you've had this perigee, but you should’ve known they’d be much stronger here - hell, the first reached you all the way in Alola – should’ve known that you would viscerally _feel_ your discomfort. So that’s ISS. So far, you’re the only troll on the islands who’s been infected.

Every day up until you had the first had droned in monotony. You did nothing but read your oldest romance novels obsessively, writing sloppily in the margins over the notes you made at twelve, sixteen. Anything involving a TV screen or the Internet, any real connection to the local or greater news, anything that wasn’t related to your books or Pokémon, you couldn’t bring yourself to face. And some of the novels that used to be your favorite, you found you hated now, wondering how past you ever had such shit, tacky taste. Still others enraptured you like never before.

Sometimes you had to put the book down, cry. You never noticed before how many of your favorite stories were pale. You missed his hands on you, steady and calming. It almost felt like phantom limb.

You emerged from your hive walls only to take the kids to the beach to train and exercise. Most of the time you set up a tent or a hammock, let them play for hours without instruction. But you dreaded leaving home for any other reason, so you did fucking not.You had everything you needed from the downtown square shipped to your hive door to avoid the crowded markets. Kanaya told people you were alive, if anyone asked.

Ironically, it would be that first nightmare that finally woke you up. It reminded you of his paintings, stashed somewhere in the basement: the colors of the hemospectrum blended beyond comprehension, a sea of it that nightmare you would drown in. And as much as part of you wanted to deny, to finally start to forget him, you knew what you felt for a fact. This was his chucklevoodoos.

So you finally started looking up what happened to him, hence the newspaper clippings like you’re tracking a serial killer. Finally asked Kanaya to talk to Porrim about coming to stay there to look for him, which the Professor has been offering the entire time, in her way. A perigee later, you’d locked your hive up - installed security - and come.

Your husktop squelches again, finally dying, forcibly ejecting the news app grub and sending it flying across the room. You add Husktop C7300 charger to your mental list of things to ask Porrim for this evening, on top of the things she’s already planning to give you.

You stand, creaking in your kneecaps, and stare at the mess of paper all over the floor. You don’t have the mental energy to do it, to pick through them one by one, to reread their headlines, their contents, the way you have for the last three nights.

Maybe you don’t even need the news anymore. You may be a stranger in Kanto, but there’s a good chance that when Gamzee – and probably this Darkrai – reached out to you, it was for your help. You don’t really owe him shit, you know that objectively; if this is an intentional ask from him, why not just send you a message, at any point in the last sweep? And why didn’t he tell you? That he didn’t want you to come?

You haven’t thought about him like this in what feels like forever. It feels all-consuming, this morning, the way it used to. For the first time, you don’t resist, you just...

> Remember

By the time you were sixteen, you lived together in your hive, but only because Gamzee's got burned down by two troll Skull grunts as a “prank.” Gamzee had been winning your local Battle Royale circle week after week, after coming upon a Slaking that he shouldn’t have been able to use, due to its maxed level met with his inexperience. He impressed so much, a mysterious human Subjuggulator – yeah, those exist now, not to be confused with the OG Juggalos – observed and invited him to play in a more challenging arena.

Gamzee started going to one of the underground Pokémon “fight clubs” beneath Abandoned Town, and didn't know they were illegal – due to their history of abusing traditional battle rules and using lusii as Pokémon – until you told him.

There’s mild contention between Team Skull and the Subjuggulators, though most “attacks” consist of pranks and dual Pokémon/rap battles. You don’t ever want to witness one of those again. But the two “opposing teams” (they’re actually pretty fucking similar, you think) found the peak way to get their animosity out, in the clubs.

These two twin Skull grunts who would bring your demise used to be top rank in the club. After only five nights of participation, Gamzee had beaten them both and assumed the top, so they told Gamzee to stop showing up, insulting him and his Pokémon, assuming he was cheating somehow. (Though they were the ones actively using lusii in their fights.)

"I told those motherfuckers, I only dance up in that joint for one thing. To keep my little friends all happy and strong. Ain't nothing to do with no score, I ain't trying to push nobody out."

You told him he should just stop going, but then you watched him explain to Girafarig, Komala and Musharna that they wouldn't be going this week, and you could feel their disappointment. You told him instead, fuck the haters, go anyway and be great.

The next time he played, and won, one of the salty displaced grunts gave him a warning: "Don't show your face around here, or we'll do something to that face." You wouldn’t learn of their threat until after the aftermath. Gamzee had paid it no mind.

The next day, you went to schoolfeeding, picked up your teams at the daycare where Kanaya worked - Kanaya went to schoolfeeding at night so that she could work in the day – and when you got back to Gamzee's hive, it was torched.

You found the corpses of your lusii, Gamzee's bleeding violet against the seashore, yours bleeding on the front steps. Yours must’ve come out to try and stop them, and there were only two of your lusii in existence - one now. One day, they were meant to breed, but you and Kankri had never wanted to collaborate that way. Oh how in that moment, you wished you’d just done it.

You were angry - sometimes if you think about it long enough, you still are - but Gamzee was never vengeful about the situation. It frustrated you how accepting of it he was.

"Nah, this is a motherfucking blessing now, brother.” He said this to you as he cracked a Faygo on your porch, as you both tried to ignore the destruction beside, staring out at the sparkling sunset. “It's all so me and you can be safe and happy in one place. Never look a beautiful tragedy hoofbeast in the nook now."

“That’s not how that fucking goes, you strawgrasping bulge scrub.” You then burst into tears.

Living together wasn't as much of a space issue as you anticipated. He's a big believer in letting his team out as often as possible, but most of his friends are well behaved. His first was really the only troublemaker you had to go around and reprimand. Gamzee's first Pokémon was his Foongus, which poisoned him several times when he came upon it, but he continued to talk to it until it "agreed to be his friend." That was his strategy, he famously doesn’t use the Pokédex, technically doesn't even need to really catch them. The Girafarig he found by the Abandoned MegaMart; when you sent the data to Porrim, she said Girafarig weren't found anywhere even remotely near Alola, but neither could she find any previous trainer registration. His Mr. Mime was his cannabis seed seller for a few sweeps prior to them teaming up. Musharna and Komala were Mr. Mime’s friends in want of a trainer too.

Gamzee learned when he came of age that he could “go inside” Pokémon's dreams, which he accidentally discovered the first night he spent with Girafarig near. Twelve year old you started writing down some of his stories from what he saw, and you would continue them for a decade. Translating Gamzee-isms into a legible, functional language is an art form and you'll take your reward.

At first, you identified that he could only dream with Normal types. By eighteen sweeps, he could enter the dreams of most Pokémon he encountered by combining abilities with Musharna. He’s the reason you know that your Cubone dreams of her mother in detail, that Pyukumuku had a trainer who mistreated her before you, that Feraligatr dreams almost exclusively in his memories of 100 sweeps ago.

Gamzee found his Slaking via the dream method in Route 11, stoned on weed and slime of course. But didn’t realize a) that the ball Kurloz sent him in the mail the day before was a Master ball, and b) that the Slaking was level 100, because he still didn’t know how to use a Pokédex.

He came in from exploring that day in a rush, hair wild and eyes wide. He looked a little confused, a lot euphoric, and more awake than you had seen him in perigees.

“Bro.”

Gamzee cradled your face with his giant hands. Soft. Gentle.

“I found my new best fucking friend.”

Gamzee held your hand as you walked through the front yard, misted with Morelull clusters pollinating cannabis. He brought you to the stump of the old oak that cracked from a thunderstorm, seating you before him, grinning goofy wide and bowing like a ringmaster.

“I’m motherfucking telling you, this dime piece is a miracle – biggest motherfucker I ever seen with my own ganders, just chillin’ in the grass lookin’ sweet. Me and him got our bitchin’ quiet conversation on and took a nap in the field, dreaming the same dream. It’s the most beautiful creature I ever laid eyes on, swear, you’re gonna fucking love it too.”

You were half prepared for Gamzee to show you another Magikarp, or a Ditto – god forbid your careless morail ever get his claws on the most unpredictable Normal Pokémon in existence – but you were also so taken by Gamzee’s fits of joy like this. It was completely ridiculous, brash and foolish, and the joy was contagious. No matter how hard you fought, and you fought, you could feel the contagion rushing you.

“I swear to every quasi-god of Pokémon, if you used Kurloz’s Master ball on a fucking Dunsparce, I’m taking your belt and you’ll never see it again, for the good of the innocent world and my sanity.”

Gamzee pressed his lips together, dimples in his smile going deep – that little thing he does when he’s trying not to laugh at your outburst. He knows that if you hear him laugh long enough, it’ll start to melt your frustration, your valid point.

He rolled the Masterball through each of his fingers, all flexible fast gymnastics then dropped it to the grass where it popped open.

Slaking was nine feet tall, even on its side, and horrifically ugly.

“Seriously?! Low budget Snorlax?!”

“Shoosh.”

He wandered over to the Pokémon and nestled up in the fur in its sternum, and both of them soon fell asleep, Gamzee’s symbol floating over their foreheads. You wished you could maintain being flabbergasted, but somehow, the sight was slowly heartwarming to you.

You left them there, returning to your hive and your novel, glad that he seemed to have made another strong bond.

But things changed on your twenty first wriggling day.

You will never forget the first time you saw Gamzee’s Slaking attack. The day you, he and Growlithe got ambushed by a feral Fearow on your way to the Ferry, to treat yourselves with a daycation in Heahea City. You were in Route 10, in a giant clearing alone, letting Growlithe tire itself out before the ride. Gamzee was a ways off, blowing dandelion seeds.

When the massive flying Pokémon sideswept you and your partner, everything happened so fast you could barely parse it: Growlithe spit flame, Fearow withstood it and stabbed Growlithe deeply in the side with its beak, Whirlwinded both of you, sent you hurtling down the field. When you tore your face off the ground, pain stinging, wind blowing dirt in your field of vision, Growlithe was nearly incapacitated, and you couldn’t find Gamzee.

When suddenly, as the wind subsided, Gamzee stepped forward and, though you thought he was incapable of it, got angry.

“That’s enough, motherfucker.”

Fearow screeched, darting high in the sky, then descending again, but Gamzee and his Master ball had other plans. Slaking landed before him with an earth-shattering crunch, lazing on its side, almost asleep.

“King. When it comes. Put the fuckin’ Impact on this fool.”

Slaking’s Giga Impact was so powerful that it killed the Pokémon. When Slaking attacked you could feel the full force of Gamzee’s chucklevoodos, so strong you almost blacked out from the fear, while Gamzee looked like he had exerted no effort whatsoever.

Gamzee was in a quiet haze while he buried the body, having to be so because you were freaking the fuck out, telling him someone would walk by, telling him you were both screwed. Him being so calm only made you feel worse, because your Gamzee had always been overly empathetic, and where the fuck was it? Why didn’t he feel anything about this?

Once you got home, Gamzee started to gently convince you that you weren’t going to prison for Pokémon torture, that it was an accident. Once you were soothed of that at least, then, Gamzee let himself be scared, too. But not as much as you were expecting.

“I ain’t wanna wash that blood off my hands. When I looked on it, I wanted to motherfucking keep it as a reminder of what all I’m capable of.”

“It was an accident. You wouldn’t. You’d never.”

“But I did.”

“But what – what happened? With the voodoos just then? Was it because I was hurt? Hell, you saw my lusus’ blood spilled all over your doorstep, _your own lusus’ blood_ and I didn’t feel them then - I can’t even remember the last time I did – and you wouldn’t even let me report those grunts for their crimes! So what gives?”

“I didn’t know how I would be feeling.” His voice cracked. “If it happened to you. I motherfucking didn’t even know what I was doing, all who I feel I am in the natural was just. Gone.”

You stayed home instead of the daycation. On TV, breaking news from Kanto reported that the eighth gym leader in Viridian had just quit, with no warning. Worse off, there were rumors she’d joined Team Rocket. Kanto trainers were being interviewed, some devastated fans of hers, crying about her disappearance or the fact that they couldn’t finish the badge challenge. You didn’t know much about Kanto, by choice, but of course, everyone knew the story of Giovanni. Weren’t they used to this kind of thing by now? The building had some kind of bad juju.

Nine sweeps ago, breaking news from Kanto reported that Giovanni, the rumored leader of Team Rocket, abandoned his post at the gym after being defeated by a mysterious, wordless human trainer, only identified by his red hat. Giovanni also finally confirmed that, yes, he was the de facto leader of Team Rocket, but he was now vowing to disband it. A Rocket whistleblower informed the media, however, that he planned on being a shadow leader, running it from an unknown location. No one has seen Giovanni since, and Team Rocket is still alive and well, though more scattered than it used to be.

Not long after the advertisement for the Viridian leader auditions, Gamzee received a mysterious package in the mail: a purple box with the mark of his sign on it. He was about to begin the holographic message inside it when Growlithe distracted you, knocking over a shelf of dishes in the meal block. You told Gamzee not to watch it without you. There was no return address on the box, no label at all. What was even in there? Who sent it?

When you were finally done with the mess, Gamzee was sitting on the couch with a strange, lanky puppet in his lap. You didn’t know why you thought he’d wait for you, curiosity kills cats. Dressed in a garish bright green suit, the puppet had beady blue eyes that unsettled you to look through, and a creepy felt grin. That was no Pokémon you’d ever fucking heard of, unless it was some kind of really weird Banette.

Gamzee told you he wanted to try out for the leadership.

“What?” You must not’ve heard him. “You? You haven’t even been in a proper battle since the fight club! Is that what the message was about? Let me see it.”

“Can’t do. It all burned up the chips and bits inside when it was done.” He gestured to the box open on the coffee table. You looked in. It was definitely fried.

“What did it say?”

“It was uh...”

He shook his head, closing his eyes, and you felt another light wave of voodoos.

“I don’t know how this is motherfucking possible, or why I believe it, but...it was my ancestor.”

God, your heart sunk. There was no logical or possible reason for a message like that to come. Your ancestors were dead. Perma-dead. That rumor that the GHB survived was ridiculous. No such thing as a troll ghost, and even if there were, they wouldn’t be in this universe.

“You know it wasn’t actually him, right?” And really, _who_ _was_ _sending him things like this._ You had both over-succeeded at keeping your ancestry under wraps, especially his, given the tyranny of the Grand Highblood. You never wanted people getting ideas about him, you declined using surnames whenever possible, even in school. Did someone know what you'd just done? “It must’ve been a projection or AI or something. Who sent it? And what is that monstrosity in your lap?”

“Oh.” Gamzee lifts the puppet sheepishly. The doll’s eyes suddenly shift to glowing bright cyan. “He gets to be called Lil' Cal.”

“I’m sorry, I really need you to not be vague, after - “ You didn’t want to speak of it, and why were you sleepy all of a sudden too? “Just - please, what did it say?”

Gamzee finally admitted that the message had called upon him to become the next High Priest of the Subjuggulators - a title that didn't even formally exist anymore - of a religion that Gamzee had so far only followed in measures of joy, not of superiority. It would not be for many, many sweeps, but he would eventually replace his ancestor, “wherever that motherfucker is.” And apparently, this prophecy required him to go the gym.

Gamzee became increasingly distant, shadowed, and out of it in the three days leading up to the contest. You were distracted by a slip in your elderly Feraligatr’s health, tending to its circulation blockage in dismay around the clock. Gamzee mostly just slept, cuddling the puppet in his slime all the while. When your anxiety peaked enough to wake him up, ask if him you two were really going on this crackpot mission, if he wanted to move to Kanto of all places, he gave noncommittal “maybes” and "I don't knows," went back to sleep. It was too much, two of your loved ones ill at once.

Step one to prepare to become the leader, according to Gamzee’s memory of the instructions, was to cut back on sopor slime consumption. You asked how “GHB” (or some high-up Kanto Subjuggulator) knew that he ate slime, with an obligatory you’d been telling him to do that since he started, “but sure, now that your murderous space ancestor’s holographic likeness tells you, you do it.” He didn’t answer.

The night of his first lowered dose – the night before he would suddenly vanish – before you drifted to sleep, Gamzee finally answered your question. Said that Lil Cal looked into his eyes and knew everything about him, deep in his soul.

“More than I do?”

“Nah. Dunno. Maybe.”

It was your last conversation.

A sweep later, when the ferry docked on Cinnabar Island, you wondered why you thought you might feel his voodoos free in the atmosphere. Maybe it had much less to do with him and the Grand Highblood and the most to do with Darkrai. It didn’t sound likely, given the evidence you’d been collecting, but you could only hope.

> Wait for sunset

Tonight's agenda consists of updating your Pokédex and traveling to Pewter for your first ever gym battle. You’re not look forward to having to do half of that in the dark, in a place you’ve never been in before, but you’ve come all this way. At least your insomnia clock is reset. You’re going to see if you can go four days this time.

You go into Kankri's meal block - everything is so neat, it's almost scary, like this is just a model hive that no one actually lives in - and inspect his thermal hull. There are several of the latest energy drinks inside, which you've been guzzling consistently (you'll leave him cash to replace them if he bitches enough about it to Porrim). You chug two, then go back upstairs and semi-clean the paper mess, shoving the articles into a folder unorganized. You then pull out one of your romances you brought with you - you can probably kill this one in the amount of hours you have to waste - and wait for sunset.

> Go outside

Once again, you have a migraine as soon as you step out. Porrim suspects it has to do with the fact that Pallet Town’s spring pollen is way thicker than that in Alola, a viscous green mist hovering grass and sticking to clothes, only accelerated by local families of Vileplume. It’s a dizzying, slumbering cloud, which won’t be of help to your feats of insomnia. However, the Professor says she has an allergy antidote for you.

It only takes a few minutes for you and Growlithe to reach Porrim’s lab, where Kanaya and Kankri are as well. Once owned by the founding father of Pokédex research, the Kanto region’s first ever lab is now owned by Porrim Maryam. Porrim was a lab assistant of Oak’s, the last one he would hire before retirement. He took a special interest in making her his replacement, inspired by her direct ancestor’s story.

This was a controversial move for Porrim at the time, because Jades in Alola never chase career goals that don’t relate to Mother Grub/lusii breeding. Once she was sixteen and finished with schoolfeeding – graduating early – Porrim was meant to sign a contract with the troll Governess’ Paradise Commission, but instead rebuked the role to go her own way.

You know Porrim is as proud to be a troll as they come, but you also know that the Maryam bloodline has a strong independent streak. No one was going to tell Porrim what she could or couldn’t do, not because of her gender, species, or intimidating tattooed looks.

You enter the lab and are greeted by Manaphy – who Growlithe snarls at, but Manaphy doesn’t really care – who leads you through the first half-room and into the second. To your right in the first, Kankri is writing what must be a novel in red on a whiteboard, talking to his Noctowl about it. He doesn’t even remotely look at you when you pass, but the owl turns its head 180 degrees to follow your figure.

Porrim is working on the left side of the room, Kanaya on the right. You’ve never seen the lab this empty before, but unfortunately, the failing economy and temporary pause on New Trainer Commencement dictates that she can only pay her staff per diem, for now. They have the rest of the week off.

Kanaya is running stats on a few of Porrim’s Ditto, surrounded by Grass Pokémon and Chansey, as per usual. She has probably thousands of Pokémon in her PC at this point, the antithesis of you, unable to bring herself to release the guinea pigs that only served to born be without perfect IVs. She does however donate them whenever possible.

“Hello,” she says when she notices you. Growlithe scurries back into the other room, probably to bother Manaphy. “You’re outside.”

“I was gonna have to eventually, right?” One of the Ditto is currently slinking itself around the stalk of a Sunflora. You don’t wanna know how that mating process works. “How’s it going in here?”

“You know.”

“Same shit, different night and locale?”

“Yes that.”

Hatched from the same brood, Kanaya was your other neighbor in Malie City; you still remember watching the carpenter drones build her hive right next to yours, high, white spires with rainbow flags. You got along well, instantly, especially when you discovered the fame of your ancestors in your early schoolfeeding. You didn’t think anyone would feel the anxiety you felt about brandishing such a heroic symbol – not that what The Sufferer did once wasn’t heroic, but you didn’t want people lofting those expectations over you – but she felt the same. Worse, probably, as was evidenced by Porrim's feelings about it.

The calm to your storm, the fashion to your disaster. She came with you to Kanto to offer emotional support and assist your search, but also to expand her mobile breeding business.

“You know you could’ve come here a sweep ago when he arrived as Porrim knew where he lived and was trying to inform you.”

“Shut the fuck up, I know that.”

Kanaya smiles a little, wry, and returns her attention to one of her Chansey, warming a Pokémon egg in its pocket. You can feel its passive energy soothing your mind, an aftereffect of its Heal Pulse, which Kanaya’s often spread around in a mist. You’ve always felt safe and warm around them, not just because of the Pulse, and not just because Alolan Chansey are Psychic. Seeing them reminds you home, no matter where you are. Kanaya has at least ten or twelve on her hive grounds at a time, tending to new broods and leaving their dumb little eggs everywhere for future you to twist your ankle on.

“I’m not saying I want you to find the guy tomorrow or anything because – fuck that guy. But you know you delayed it for this long for a reason.”

You think about that, feel defeated again. You worked yourself up to come outside for three nights, and now Kanaya is making you think you should just go home again.

“No, I - I’m fine. There’s no one else who understands his strange fucking circus of a mind like I do – did – and none of this would’ve happened if I’d just had my shit together for once in my life and kept my hivehold under control.”

The thing is, with the exception of the last three days you spent with him – and the incident – Gamzee was under control. Too much so. It was you who needed controlling, with your stubborn self defeatism and emotional overbearingness.

You didn’t have to say much to each other, you and Kanaya, about going to Kanto. Two weeks prior, you'd started storing your valuables in the basement, making sure the security system was set up. While you were installing more of the Rotom cameras on your roof one night, Kanaya noticed – carrying her Roselia – and came over.

“What are you doing.”

“Making sure none of the ‘lusii are Pokémon!’ degenerates come and try to burn down my hive. Again.”

Kanaya stared for a moment.

“Are you leaving.”

Sometimes her inflection stays the same no matter what she says, how she feels. You looked at her, her skin glowing bright in the dark, and knew that it wasn’t a question.

“Yeah.”

You finished screwing the Rotom into the eave. It blinked at you several times in succession. You didn’t know what that meant. You weren't good with Ghosts.

You knew Kanaya would still be waiting by the time you came down the ladder. You walked around to the other side of the hive; Roselia was now aggressively pollenating the Morelull at the edge of your lawn and hers.

“Sorry, Rose doesn’t seem to like that you’ve let your yard get. Um. Like that.”

“I’m going to Kanto.”

You weren’t expecting her to react, but she did. Just so. Her brow furrowed, but other than that, she stayed almost lifelessly still. Rainbow Drinkers get serious at night.

“You’re not going alone.”

You knew what she was saying. But she couldn’t – this sweep marked the first year on her own as a licensed babysitter, no longer having to work for someone else. Her clientele had been growing, and her personal quest to breed the shiniest Grass conglomeration had been going well her entire life. You looked over her beautiful gardens – the topiaries shaped like Pokémon that you saw her spend hours on every weekend, the meandering paths decorated with organized flower types. Kanaya was headstrong, knew where her home and what her purpose was. You weren't sure you knew that about yourself, anymore.

“Uh, yeah. Who else do you think is coming? Have you seen me leave my hive in the last few perigees? This last sweep?”

“No, and that’s why you’re not going alone.”

She explained that she was already planning on finding new business customers in Kanto soon, basing herself in Porrim’s lab for a perigee, maybe longer if the money was good. This was just the last 10% kick she needed to motivate herself.

Neither of you said that night that you know you've lost touch with each other some. You still had your once-in-three-perigee tradition of going to the beach and watching the Ultra Beast portals open and close, wondering what shooting star came out or returned. But besides that, this past sweep, you've both been solitary.

It’s not personal. When you were focused on Gamzee, it felt like you saw her enough, and vice versa. You loved both of your best friends, but understood why she always disliked him, and you never got the impression that she cared about being excluded. You’ve always just known that you have each other’s backs when you need it. It’s implicit enough that you don’t have to speak it. But when you go long enough not saying, out of sight, out of mind can feel comfortable.

“I miss you.”

For a moment you aren’t sure if you say it or she does. It took you crossing 1000 miles of sea to remember she lives next door. She always has.

“I miss you too," she says.

After talking to Kanaya, you check in with Porrim. She doesn’t look up from her massive Pokédex management computer system, which takes up the entire back left corner of the lab, across from her mini Pokécenter healing equipment.

“Kankri the younger. Nice to see you’re alive.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“You haven’t spoken to him, have you?”

“Does it matter?”

“Touché.”

She turns around in her chair, rising to her full height to meet you. You don’t know why Porrim is so ungodly tall, nearing six and a half feet – she doesn’t look it from afar, all smooth, delicate lines and slimming dress - but you feel something jump in your stomach whenever you physically see her tower over you. Porrim’s already point blank and blunt with you over Pokédex phone. Her presence is stronger in person. Jadebloods don’t wrangle Mother Grubs and heave heavy matriorbs for shits and gigs.

“So I got everything you asked for." She pulls your items from a compartment in the computer system. “Eviolite, Choice Scarf, Wide Lens, Max Revives, your allergy antidote, and," she winks, "some Ultra balls for the road.”

“You know I’m not here to catch.”

”You’re never anywhere to catch.”

You suddenly hear Kankri yelp, the sound of papers scattering, Growlithe’s claws skittering across the floor.

You whistle so loud that it startles Porrim in front of you.

Growlithe shows, sits at your feet, and you show him the Choice Scarf.

“This is gonna help you move a little faster.” When you fasten it to his leg, he whines. “Don’t give me that, it looks fine.”

You stroke his fur, feeling guilt well up again. You have to go get started. Your partner needs it more than you do, despite his assertion of the opposite. 

“You sure you don’t want an Eviolite for him too?” Porrim says.

You laugh. “I think it's safe to say he's determined on his own to make it to 100 like this.”

You’re about to take Cubone out when Kankri comes around the corner, flustered and pissed.

“Would you mind keeping control of your little dog? It just ruined the dissertation I’ve been painstakingly scouring over for three nights straight, and frankly, I don't appreciate when Pokémon and their irresponsible trainers feel that they're too good to have respect for the other life forms in their vicinity, including but not limited to burning the evidence that certain researchers have been, as I said, _painstakingly scouring over for the last three nights_.”

You stare at Porrim, lost for words. She snorts, gesturing to him grandly.

“I don’t appreciate you acting like I’m not in the room, Porrim.”

“Damn, did I say you weren’t? Kanny, you know you can just print another copy. Stop acting like a puppy just trying to play with you was capable enough to decimate your pet project.”

You know for a fact – she does too, she knows your Growlithe – that your friend was over there fucking with him on purpose. Noctowl allowed it, to boot.

“It’s not a _pet project_ ,” Kankri states, “it’s – “

“’A statement to the world at large about the abusive themes inherent in the competition arena.’ We get it, you’re the Savior of all Pokémon, killer of fun.”

Kankri glares.

“Don’t call me Kanny.”

He goes back to his corner, already lecturing to himself. Noctowl listens intently and cheerfully when he comes in range to complain about what just happened.

You resume letting Cubone from her ball. She’s sleeping again, not waking upon release the way she should.

“How’s she doing?”

You glance at Porrim. Your worried expression says it all.

“She’s only really friendly when she’s with them. If it’s just me and her, she goes shy. Curls around my leg, sounds like she just wants me to let her back in. It wasn’t like this a few weeks ago, but. It comes and goes. Comes more often.”

Porrim stoops down to your level. She gently touches Cubone’s skull, nudging enough that she slowly wakes.

“The Eviolite should help it feel more grounded, since we still don’t even know if it _can_ evolve. I finally finished that analysis from the sample you sent me - “

“What? Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

Porrim’s eyes narrow. “You think you would’ve answered your damn gear and stopped living off the grid for long enough?”

Fair point. You roll your eyes.

“Anyway,” Porrim says. “It would take more intricate tests to determine why, and I know you’re not comfortable with that yet. But something key is missing in its DNA. Only nine nucleotides as opposed to a normal Cubone’s dozen. In fact. I’d never seen a Pokémon with an odd number like that.”

You startle. The idea that she might be sick to the core and there’s nothing you can do to help. “Never? Not even mythical?”

“Manaphy is really the only mythical I’ve done complete DNA work on, but I talked to Elm in Johto and he’d never seen it either.”

“Wait, what? You _told him_ about her?”

“Relax. The discretion in the Professor community is tight, especially his. He also wondered why you don’t want to do any more research, but understood when I said you were just concerned for her safety.”

And you are. It was why you felt like you had no choice but to take her in, when you found her.

You were hiking the base of Mount Lanakila with Growlithe when you heard the Cubone’s cry, the ruffling of dry grass behind a rock. You saw it poke its head above the stone, its body undeniably dark lavender, not brown, with a flame engraved in its skull.

“Holy shit.”

The Cubone tilted its head, looked at you.

“That shouldn’t exist,” you told Growlithe, who was predictably growling in defense. “No like – it really shouldn’t exist.”

You sighed then, remembering how awful it was to deal with the Rotom in your Dex. All Alolan Pokédex have helpful, especially sentient Rotom infused through the program, granting them the power of speech. For some reason, yours loved to stall and annoy you.

_Are you ready to apologize to me for calling me, and I quote, ‘the blistering f*cking scars lining the most inflamed, h*erpes infested sph*ncter?’_

“Oh my god, herpes isn’t a curse!”

_It’s not a very nice thing to say._

“Why the fuck Professor Kukui thought it would be a good idea to give the Pokédex emotional capacity, I’ll never understand it. I get it’s comforting to wigglers, but how are we to expect a Ghost to understand the finer nuances of human-troll insult comedy? This is an art form, I take my craft fucking serious. Look, I realize I may’ve used some colorful language, but it was only because this was exactly how you started our last fucking conversation! Hm, maybe Karkat doesn’t need me to look up vital information on his quest to possibly save this clearly defective and extremely impossible Cubone from some criminal research organization who’s just going to stick it in a test tube and study it to death. Is that any way to live?”

_I’m sorry, I didn’t understand that! Would you mind telling me again?_

“Bullshit.”

_I’m sorry, I didn’t understand that!_

Growlithe cut you off with a rancorous bark: the Cubone had started to try and sneak towards you, now cowering back a bit.

“Hey, hey.” You knelt next to Growlithe, but your eyes didn’t leave the Cubone. It made another melodic noise. “It’s fine, it’s not attacking. I’m not even sure it’s fucking real.”

You took three slow footsteps towards it, carrying your Dex in your hand. It continued to stare at you. You took three closer, Growlithe grumbling and starting to follow.

“Heel. No, no, what did I just say? Heel. I’m serious, I’m really okay.”

Alolan Marowak hatch. It’s already an infamous abnormality in its species, but for the hundreds of years that the Cubone line has been studied, it’s been scientific fact that, for some reason, Alolan Marowak lack predecessors or successors.

But the Alolan Cubone let you get close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from it. It almost seemed like it wasn’t moving, except for the slow blinking of its eyes. Its body didn’t look entirely solid, like the wisps of a spirit were only taking the form of a body.

It sang again, long and hollow. You didn’t know why you knew this, but it sounded sad.

When it waddled to your leg, nudged you with the nose of its skull, and sang again, you knew you were sunk. Whatever was wrong, you had to try and help.

But first, you had to make sure it wasn’t some experimental projection.

“As you can see,” you told the Dex, “I’m clearly with child. My hypothetical human womb is just undulating with – you know what I’m not finishing that metaphor. So can you cut the loquacious diversions and scan it?”

_Are you ready to apologize to me for calling me, and I quote, ‘the blistering f*cking scars -_

“It’s incredible to me that you’ve managed to keep up this shtick for eight sweeps. Maybe I was wrong before, maybe there is subtly to a Rotom’s attempts at comedy and making their trainer want to rip its keratinous thinkpan fibers out.”

_I have been mean to you for eight sweeps because you’ve been mean to me!_

“Reciprocity, motherfucker. Ever heard of it? You started this and you know it. I tried being friends with you when I was young, but you had a problem with everything I said!”

_You didn’t have to be so loud! Everything you told me to do was always a shout!_

“That’s just how I fucking talk! Have you ever heard me whisper? I’m sorry I wasn’t completely in charge of my vocal strands when I was ten! Trust me, if I didn’t have to sound like a blowhorn every time I spoke, I wouldn’t!”

_You are mean, Karkat, and these are the facts. I have to help a troll who yells and yells, who used to activate me without even asking me to perform functions, just to yell ! Rotom have needs, same as any creature! I_ need _to help you, but it just makes me feel so awful! It makes me feel so – s-s-s-s-s-o_

It started crackling in your hands, eyes flickering static.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand that! Would you mind repeating yourself?”

_NO! I can’t take it anymore! I’m getting the f*ck out of here! F*ck you! F-f-f-f-f-_

When it began to vibrate violently and crack sparks, you threw it to the ground, slightly alarming Cubone, but it stayed with your leg. Porrim intercepted through the Dex phone.

“Kark-!” Her voice glitched and cut in and out. “What the - did you do to - this time?”

“I don’t know, asked it to do its job?”

A schreeching cry came from the Dex, startling you and Cubone back. The Rotom ripped itself from the technology, and once free, its flickering body flew towards the sun.

You stood speechless for a moment. Then you contacted Kanaya.

She said Porrim would send him a Kanto software patch remotely, Rotom-free. Once it loaded and she could see you were online, Porrim called you back. “You know I could’ve done this for you forever ago, right?” “Yeah, yeah.”

You told her about your find, set up the scan, but it only returned ??? in every data field. Porrim whistled as she processed the image the Dex took.

“Congratulations, Karkat. I think you just discovered a new Pokémon.”

In her lab today, you still aren’t sure you’d credit yourself with such a discovery. It isn’t a Pokémon no one’s ever heard of. It’s just. Different. And sad.

After you register the items in your gear, Porrim gives your Pokédex a software update to make it properly regional. You talk to Kanaya about leaving for Viridian and Pewter in an hour or two, which she says she will accompany you for. Leaving all of the contents of your belt inside the lab, you venture out to calibrate the update on a wild Pokémon.

> Proceed to Route 1

Just north of Pallet Town, you enter a country road full of greenery and rough paths, ledges and tall grass. Even after applying your allergy antidote, the mist hovering over the grass is irritating your olfactory nubs. At least your migraine is decreasing. Wrangling Growlithe away from innocent Caterpie and Rattata is a mostly pointless endeavor, but there are so many around, Growlithe can't focus enough on one and erratically chases several with no dangerous outcome, only following you again when you whistle for it loud enough that it hurts your vocal strands.

After calibrating your Dex on one of the Caterpie, you look at your Pokégear's newly downloaded Kanto map for reference. You are about halfway through the Route - this is hands down the shortest Route you've ever seen - so you decide to just go to the end before turning back, giving Growlithe more time.

When suddenly, you feel something enter your mind. It's hard to explain what it is, but you're anxious because of it. Like something is watching or listening to you, searching and probing your thoughts. It increases in pressure as you move forward. 

You round the bend of the second to last treewall ledge, and on the path ahead, there's a Team Rocket party assembled.

"Well, shit."

The Team Rocket agents themselves are two troll females, one with Teal pattern horns, the other Cerulean. Their Pokémon team looks like nothing you want to fuck with objectively: Mega Garchomp, Absol, and Lucario beside the cerulean, Salamence, Goodra, Dratini, and weirdly, a dragon-based lusus beside the teal.

You continue your walk, though. You don't know if Team Rocket scares you, even though they probably should. You think you're so pissed from reading about their history recently - the dangerous experiments they do on Pokémon for "research" and profit, such as severed Slowpoke tails and completely edible Alcremie, bolstered on by oblivious and jovial grunts - that you almost _wish_ they would step to you. You not being from around here is an asset in that respect. You just think they're cowards.

That Garchomp is fucking huge, though.

The Rocket agents are having a conversation, until they notice you walk up; the Cerulean has some kind of vision eightfold in her left eye, the Teal wearing giant red glasses that obscure hers. The teal steps to you, stomping her Dratini-headed cane between you.

“Ten thousand boonbucks.”

“What?”

“The toll, stupid,” the other one says. “If you want your sweet, sweeeeeeeet freedom in moving on with your dignity, pay up or shut up. Ten thousand boonbucks.”

“That’s not even a form of tender. Did you fail economics in schoolfeeding?”

“Team Rocket have their own currency,” says the Teal.

“Okay?” you say. “I’m not in Team Rocket, so I don’t have it.”

You try to move around them, but the Garchomp immediately cuts your path, hissing in your face, so you skip the fuck back. You’ve always had an irrational fear of powerful Ground Pokémon. And Ghosts. And others.

A Youngster human trainer goes around your debacle through the tall grass, followed by a Rattata.

"What about them?"

"Who?" says the red shades.

"That fucking kid over there! Can't you see?"

"No."

The bedazzled Dratini cane is more than decoration, then. You remember now that Goodra's thick, opaque coating empowers its blindness.

“To inflict the world with devastation.” They speak in unison, monotone voices. “To divide all people within our nation. To denounce the evils of truth and love. To extent our reach to the stars above.”

“Terezi,” one.

“Vriska,” the other.

“Team Rocket blasts off at the speed of light. Surrender now, or prepare to fightkill.”

They speak over each other on the last word, which Vriska is clearly upset about.

“No way, we’re going with mine!”

“Vriska, that word does not even make sense in the context.”

“You don’t even make sense in the context!”

“And it doesn’t rhyme.”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up.”

When you speak, they turn to look at you in unison, stalwart at first. Then they look at each other and laugh hysterically.

"Welllllll," Vriska sneers, "looks like you can't cough up the pay up, which puts you in direct violation of Team Rocket Code 88.413."

"How am I supposed to know if that's even a code I'm governed by? I’m not even from here!"

“Yeah,” Vriska snorts, “that was obvious.”

“And technically neither are you!”

“Defeat us,” Terezi propositions suddenly, louder than you expected. She grins wide, the sharpest knifelike teeth you've ever seen, points that could easily skewer your bloodpusher. "Or don't. But the crime you have committed in violation of Team Rocket Code 88.413 is as grave as follows: ‘being, having been, or possessing the capacity to be in need of material resource consumption for the purposes of curtailing biological expiry - ‘”

“You mean fucking existing?”

“ - the consequences of which are an inevitable Pokémon battle defeat, by any eligible Team Rocket agent issuing the warrant, and you do not strike me as the kind of troll who could handle the shame of such defeat."

“He really doesn’t. I mean, he was _obviously_ about to cry when we told him his cluckbeast ass couldn’t cross the road. What is he, a wiggler?”

“He definitely looks like a wiggler to me.”

"What the fuck is he even wearing?”

"Alright, you know what? I'm going."

But Terezi's Goodra freezes your legs in place with its coating.

Growlithe springs into action immediately, sending Flamethrower at the Dragon; Goodra Hydro Pumps but Growlithe barrel dodges, sweeping up sand.

Your Pokégear blings in your back pocket, the battle request Terezi obviously just sent you from her gear: 4x4 Double Battle, Anything Goes clauses, No revives, No rematch.

"Yeah, like hell I'm accepting this! I don't have a partner and I don't trust you backwards crooks not to cheat like you already are!"

You suddenly feel that anxious pressure in your mind increase tenfold; Lucario, you can see, is communing with the Cerulean. You don't know what the fuck kind of combination this is, but it feels really terrible.

"Too bad." Vriska steps forward, gesturing for Absol. "The only way you get out of this is battling!"

Fuck it. You know you're gonna lose, but at least that will appease their massive egos, and you're in public: the Youngster who'd passed by before has swung back around, watching from a ledge at a very safe distance, with several other children. They're not gonna capture you or maim you in front of a bunch of kids.

You hope not.

You accept, and the Pokégear activates your holographic Battle Selection Interface; Growlithe's HP and stats appear, showing its Choice Scarf equipped. Shit, you should've taken that off before this. Now Growlithe is locked into a slightly faster Flamethrower.

Absol is only at level 65, so Growlithe will make it; Absol loses its usual speed advantage, allowing Growlithe to shoot more damage, and even Absol's Sucker Punch doesn't pack enough Attack heat to ding Growlithe's higher Defense stat given its sheer level. Terezi's Goodra would've been a KO sentence if it weren't freshly evolved at 52, and if its only non-STAB water move didn't have risky accuracy. 

And luckily, all of your Pokémon have long been kissed by Gamzee's Gift.

But the massive horns on Goodra's head are powerful; its Dragon Pulses flow from them and knock Growlithe's HP to 38%. A glowing troll sign floats between the Pokémon eyes, the same worn by Terezi and her lusus. 

Vriska summons Garchomp to the arena, level 80, and you know you're fucked.

When suddenly, someone runs up next to you.

"Hey." A human, skinny, blonde, golden skin. He's wearing a backpack leash attached to a Klinklang. Who the fuck is this?

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Just helping you out."

"Dave!" Terezi knows him, apparently. "How nice of you to join us."

"Yeah you've been skulking around this area for a while now so it's on our loop to make sure you aren't fucking with kids."

"This ain't a kid, dumpass!" Vriska snarls, and Garchomp stomps, shaking the earth beneath it, and god the wave of panic that shoots up you from the shake is ridiculous. This Lucario is pressuring you something serious. "We're just having fun, but of course, just because we bow to a different master than you do, we're not allowed to have _fun,_ harmless battles."

"You stuck the guy to the ground."

"And your overlord is your own brother! Talk about pathetic."

The human says no more, opening up his gear and requesting to join, which Terezi accepts on hers, summoning her level 78 Dratini.

He sends a level 100 Smeargle into the ring, his BSI opening next to yours. His software looks corrupted, shitty sharpened .jpegs beyond comprehension. How does he read that? 

_"Smeargle?"_

"Just trust me."

> Dark Void

You seem to be the only one shocked that this Smeargle somehow Sketched the "alleged" Darkrai's signature Move. You suddenly had a million questions but no time to ask, turning Growlithe on its Flamethrower until Garchomp woke too quickly. Garchomp's Dragon Claws slashed Growlithe's HP to a measly 6%, while Smeargle Sketched the Dragon Claws back to Garchomp and Dratini.

> Earthquake

Garchomp's Earthquake is stronger than you realized a Pokémon could be, startling the kids on the ledge and causing them to run, knocking Growlithe out and making you wish you could fucking hit the floor, but you're stuck standing-vibrating in Goodra's hardened coating as the ground splits minutely in front of you.

Terezi's Salamence returns she and Vriska to the arena; Dratini took as much damage as Smeargle and Growlithe, leaving it at 31% to Smeargle's 1%, thank the Focus Sash. After Dratini finishes Smeargle off, Dave sends Klinklang, level 85, in as the last partner - he only has two with him - but it OHKO's to Garchomp's next Earthquake. 

Dave got knocked back a ways from the last one, getting his bearings on his back. You're trembling harder than you have in a sweep when Terezi's Goodra slimes your legs again, dissolving the existing coating. You drop to your knees.

Vriska returns her Garchomp, reviving Terezi's Dratini and Goodra, as Terezi walks up to you.

She kneels down, unclips your belt, and takes it with her.

“That’s bullshit," you hear the human saying, "just give him his weird fanny pack.”

“And what are you gonna do about it, Dave?”

He says nothing. She walks back to her party, and before mounting on Salamence, Vriska turns over her shoulder and spits in your direction.

You roll your eyes, brushing yourself off as they fly away.

“It’s fine. They can have it.”

You shut off your BSI, crawling over to Growlithe. You give him a Max Revive, but his mood is still rattled from the Earthquake. You shush him softly, holding him in your arms cradle, and find the strength to stand.

"My bad," the human says, suddenly next to you, "coulda done better if I'd had more of the squad with me."

Great.

He’s just waiting, like now you’re supposed to have a conversation just because he intervened when you didn’t ask. Who is this douchebag?

> Be the other douchebag

Your name is Dave Strider, and this weird troll is looking at you like his gaze could burn right through you. You’re the kind of guy that loves to mind his own business, keep that business locked up tight like a virgin in a belt made of chastity, but he was clearly about to get roughed by those two troll Rockets. You know both of them, wouldn’t wish Vriska on your enemy if you had one.

You tried to be the hero, which usually doesn’t go well. Such is life. You were out on your evening walk with Klinklang, as has been your tradition since you were ten. While most would assume you’d put the Pokémon on the leash, it’s you who wears the backpack with a handle loosely tied around one of Klinklang’s static gears, as it floats gleefully behind you. You had a tendency to get lost as a kid, and maybe you still do. Pewter and Viridian locals look forward to seeing you two around town, you’re practically a meme.

The troll is stocky, bangs staticky, can’t close his mouth completely, fangs jutting into his lower lip. Those dogs are thick and sturdy, even young, and he’s holding it in a cradle like it’s nothing. He’s strong, under that giant tarp of a vaguely tropical printed shirt.

“Did you, uh.” You’re thrown off when he looks back up at you, daggers in his eyes. “Need anything? How many Pokémon did they take?”

The troll scoffs. “The belt was empty. I’m not like you materialist airheads in Kanto who carry their entire fucking life in one bag all the time, like their trip to the PokéMart will lead them on a magic hero’s journey for sweeps. I’ll get another when I get back to - my dancestor’s hive.”

He’s just all smoldering glares. You've never felt a "why the fuck are you talking to me" so strong. But somehow, you know you need to say something else.

“I was watching you hold your own though." Is this really that something? "I’ve never really seen anyone battle with a first evo at that high a level.”

“Wait, hold the palmhusk - you were _watching me,_ and waited that long to step in?!”

“Uh.”

You don’t know him well enough to explain why you avoid conflict like it’s going out of style.

The troll stalks away, and you’re not gonna lie, the anger looks kinda good on – shit, you don’t know his name - but this encounter has taken maybe twenty minutes tops, which is not nearly enough time to develop actual feelings for an alien stranger. You'll probably never see him again.

You use a Max Revive on Klinklang, and they immediately register the emotion you were just feeling towards the troll. You can feel it whirring back at you in your own chest, compounding, their gears like an amplifier to whatever you feel. You would put them away for now – even after all these years, sometimes it’s uncomfortable being so confronted with your own reactions – but you also know how Klinklang gets when you don’t connect often enough.

You have to let them into your heart, as if you ever had a choice. Your Pokémon chose you.


	3. *surprised Pikachu face*

> Be Karkat

“I step one foot into the region for all of ten minutes, and what ends up happening? I get ambushed by Team Rocket.”

Back in Pallet Town, you explain what happened as Porrim uses her healing equipment on Growlithe’s remaining superficial injuries. You've set all of your items back up in the replacement belt that you grabbed from Kankri’s hive. Every sensible person knows you should always carry at least five back up belts. Kanaya is still working in her corner, wrapping things up, but Kankri is gone.

“Did they do one of those stupid slam poems?” Porrim says. “It’s like an internal law that they have to.”

“God, yeah. And then stood there fucking arguing about it, while I should’ve just backed off during, but I was so baffled by the futility. Not like that Goodra wouldn’t’ve just stuck me to the ground either way.”

“Ah, so you met Terezi and Vriska.”

“Are they notable in some way?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t find anything about them in your serial killer levels of research.”

“Oh, yeah, fuck me for not recording every single detail of Kanto’s ups and down.”

Kanaya is finished returning her breeding team, organizing them in her portable PC. She stands, spends a minute rearranging her complicated layered skirts, while Feraligatr’s Heavy Ball buzzes on your belt. Feraligatr is fully rested and awake inside now. You release him to get a full visual.

As usual, Feraligatr lands on the lab floor with a crunch, its complex prosthetic leg providing a chunk of the weight. Even after six sweeps, the prosthetic moves with ease, holds up in the rough of the sea. You still don’t know the name of the engineer, the Indigo sign engraved in the knee-joint somehow impossible to track down. You'd've asked Sollux for the hatchname at any point since he gave it to you as a "gift," but he hasn't really give you the option to. He still had you blocked on every communication service, all these sweeps later. Petty fucker.

Kanaya comes alongside you to greet Feraligatr, who's stretching, yawning, revealing all eighty of his terrifying fangs. He’s always been Kanaya’s favorite of yours. If you had to pick a favorite, objectively, it would be this old soul. But you could never say that in front of Growlithe.

Growlithe comes to Feraligatr’s front legs and sniffs them obsessively. Feraligatr has zero concept of personal space with your team, and vice versa, letting them ride and sleep on him frequently.

“He looks like he’s improving,” Kanaya notes.

“As much as he can.” You know his circulatory system won’t ever be what it was, after the dangerous blockage last sweep that made you fear he might lose his other hind leg. Your Pokécenter rep in Alola assured you there was still enough flow post-procedure for the limb to survive. For how long they thought, you never let them tell you.

“So,” Kanaya says. “Viridian and then Pewter?”

“Yeah. I don’t know if it’s worth it to visit the Mt. Silver gates yet. It’s not like they’ll tell me if Gamzee’s up there.”

“Maybe if they know who you are.”

“Sort of not trying to broadcast that I was once ‘romantic’ with the guy currently unleashing hell.”

You approach Growlithe and Feraligatr, and suddenly Cubone, who’d been observing what Porrim was doing on the computer before. Feraligatr lies on his chest with Growlithe and Cubone flopped over his back. You tell them that unfortunately, they’ll have to bond again in a few hours.

“And guess what?” You add, smiling. “We’re finally competing again tonight.”

Instead of returning Cubone back to her Dusk ball, you place her in her Encrypt ball, a custom ball by Sollux Captor, the former Kahuna of Ula’Ula. The last time you saw each other, before his move to Kanto, Sollux gifted it to you “as the prize for winning the challenge,” along with Feraligatr's leg. When your BSI scans your team into a battle request, the Encrypt ball ensures that it stays invisible, as if there’s an empty slot. At the time, you lightly accused Sollux of using them to cheat, but Sollux said he couldn’t control whether or not the people he’d given them to would do that.

Porrim asks for an update when you’ve secured the first two badges. You and Kanaya step outside the lab, Kanaya releasing Tropius for you two to Fly on. Kanaya’s on her way your way to visit the famous Babysitting facility just south of Cerulean. She’s been in contact with one of their most notable breeders, Jade Harley.

You’re afraid of heights, among other things, which is why you’ve had no interest in catching a Flying type.

“Will you make sure she - “

“Stays less than fifteen feet above the ground, I know.”

But it’s not just the height. You know you aren’t just gonna find Gamzee wandering around, but still. It feels like you don’t want to miss anything, going on foot would be more thorough, as well as more challenging for your recent lack of mobile activity.

Online, in Alolan troll spaces, those who are excited about finally getting to compete on the mainland come up with runs for each other to accomplish. One of the most popular, and most difficult, is to go on foot or bicycle, no Flying or public transport, in chronological badge order. You always made fun of this when you were younger, thinking those people just wanted to prove something or compensate for some lack, when it made logical sense to just take the shortcut. Now, you think you get it: motivation.

If there’s anyone who can help you motivate yourself, it’s Kanaya. She doesn’t always share her judgment or opinion of what you’re doing until you ask, but she does often right you and make you see things you would’ve missed.

Kanaya got to Kanto a night before you, to set up her workstation in Porrim’s lab. The night you boarded the S.S. Cinnabar, you messaged Kanaya to let her know you were on your way, and pass the time, since Growlithe was asleep.

Kanaya was, in her way, freaking out over the prospect of joining you in your battle against the leader known as the Water Flower of Cerulean, Rose Lalonde. You still didn't know much about the Kanto leaders, except the two you already knew from Alola, but you knew far too much information about Rose specifically, because of Kanaya’s special interest.

KARKAT: HELL, FOR ALL YOU KNOW, YOU’LL BE EXACTLY HER TYPE. MAYBE SHE’LL THROW HERSELF INTO YOUR UNNECESSARILY BUFF ARMS IMMEDIATELY.  
KANAYA: I Really Dont Think So  
KARKAT: IT’S NOT LIKE YOU’RE A NOBODY. NEED I REMIND YOU WHO YOUR ANCESTOR IS? NOT THAT WE TALK ABOUT THAT.  
KARKAT: AND IT’S NOT LIKE YOU’RE ME, WHO WOULD IMMEDIATELY FUCKING REPEL ANYONE I WAS EVEN REMOTELY INTERESTED IN THAT WAY.  
KARKAT: IF THEY EVEN EXISTED.  
KANAYA: Has It Occurred To You That Maybe  
KANAYA: You Are Hot

It wasn’t the first time she’d said it, and she didn’t mean it in that way at all. (You’re pretty sure Kanaya would be a human lesbian if your species had a word for that.) You just wished Kanaya would understand, after all these sweeps: Sollux did not give you the Kahuna challenge win and those “gifts” because he thought you were black flirting with him. Even if you were – if someone as self-loathing as Sollux could even be on your radar with how much you loathe yourself – it wouldn’t have been because you thought he would fall for it in the slightest. You would do it just to fuck with him, but you and Sollux both know that you don’t know a damn thing about flirting, in any concupiscent quadrant or relationship. You lived with the same troll for most of your life, effectively a recluse with zero experience in things not down with the clown.

You’ve noticed people looking at you lately, though. At 22 sweeps, you’re at the start of your second pre-molt, which doesn’t happen in most lowbloods until at least 40 sweeps. You’re already an anomaly hidden in plain sight, red starting to fill your eyes much brighter than rust. On the islands, you normally wear straw-woven hats with bills so gigantic that the shadows hide your eyes from most of the population. But your skin has started to shine, a sign that your second coating is going to shed. You are the first of a generation, an example for all those who’ll come after you, for this new world that has fallen in love with studying you.

The thing is, you aren’t sure that you want to be that.

KARKAT: I DON’T  
KARKAT: OKAY, EVEN IF I WAS IN SOME ARBITRARY CATEGORY OF “HOTNESS” BASED ON WHOEVER THE HUMANS’ FAVORITE TROLL MOVIE STAR OF THE MONTH IS, WOULD THAT MAKE ME A BETTER TROLL? WOULD IT MAKE IT SO THE STARS WOULD ALIGN THEMSELVES AT MY FEET, BELLOSSOM THROWING PETALS IN MY WAKE, WITH A LIFE FINALLY FREE OF EXCRUCIATING FUCKING BANALITY?  
KANAYA: Historically Yes Beautiful People Do Get Handed An Easier Card In Life  
KANAYA: We Live In A Society  
KANAYA: Thats Not To Say Every Individual Beautiful Person Doesnt Deserve What Theyve Worked For  
KANAYA: Or That Aesthetic No Matter How Cultivated Has Anything To Do With Life Being A Bitch  
KANAYA: Its Okay To Know That You Look Good By No Fault Of Your Own And Allow Good Things To Happen To You Organically Because Of It  
KANAYA: As Long As You Remain Humble  
KANAYA: Taking Only Whats Freely Given And Never Coerced  
KANAYA: Using Your Platform To Give To Pokemon Charity  
KARKAT: JUST SAY ROSE LALONDE AND GO.

You watched her roll her eyes in the chat’s viewport, blow her bangs up out of her face as she chuckled. You’re one of the only people who sees her without her signature updo, black lipstick, claws painted, garments crisp. You know Kanaya isn’t afraid of how she looks – you saw the same person in the loose hair and t-shirt inside your screen – only likes to refine it when she enters the sun, put on a fashion show for a viewer.

KANAYA: What Im Saying Is Maybe You Should Consider The Idea That You Deserve Good Things Too

You’d be embarrassed of how tight you’re clinging to Kanaya on Tropius, Growlithe clinging to you just as tight, but she’s used to this by now. You glide over Route 1, staring down at the cracks in the earth from your previous battle, and Tropius does briefly have to get a little higher than fifteen feet to pass over the Viridian welcome station.

Passing over Route 2, Tropius lands in Viridian near the Pokécenter’s plaza, where you attract the attention of the few humans outdoors. Two curious children and their Pichu approach you as you disembark, interested in the fruit around Tropius’ neck. Kanaya obliges, telling their parents to stop apologizing, and picks some of the fruit for them, while you refer to your Pokégear map and look around.

The few times you’ve seen Viridan on TV, it’s always looked lively; now, in comparison, the sunset-laden city looks like a ghost town. The only real activity is happening yards away at the doors of the gym. Protesters. Only ten, one troll and nine humans, carrying signs you can’t read from here.

You check out Route 22 on your map, which leads to the League office and Mt. Silver, as Growlithe sniffs the area the children and Pichu were just walking over. You reconsider going through the route and trying to dig some information out of the office workers, when you feel a strange whirring in your chest, look up.

That blonde guy from the battle. He’s way far ahead on the main path, closer to the entrance to Viridian Forest, far enough that you doubt he sees you – and he probably can’t see far given he’s wearing dark shades in the evening – still attached to his Klinklang. Talking to himself or the Pokémon, apparently.

“Oh, god, spare me the fucking serendipity.”

“What,” Kanaya says.

“This dumbass bystander who tried to intervene in my Team Rocket debacle is right over there.”

Kanaya squints.

“That looks like one of Rose Lalonde’s brothers.”

“What? You can tell from _here_ _?"_

“I said ‘that looks’ but they have a very distinct. Um. Hair color.”

“Well, whoever he is and whatever his name is, we’re waiting until he leaves to move on.” That whirring again, stronger this time. What was his name? You remember one of the Rocket agents saying it. Why do you even care? “I don’t want him trying to talk to me again. It was awkward as fuck.”

“What do you mean he ‘tried to intervene.’”

“Invited himself into the double battle. Thought he could win with a Smeargle and a knock off Magneton. I just wasn’t in the mood to be helped.”

“When are you.”

You roll your eyes.

“Sorry,” she says. “I’m not one to talk.”

"I was embarrassed," you clarify, "that I was completely immobile the whole time, and the last fucking thing I wanted to do was make small talk with the guy who just watched me get robbed by two troll girl criminals, like I was supposed to thank him. He didn't even invite himself until the end!"

You look again towards the entrance to Route 22.

“Let’s just go in there,” Kanaya says.

You wave your hand dismissively.

“Or we could Fly over possibly Rose’s brother high enough that he won’t recognize you."

“Ugh.”

You watch as some of the protesters by the gym are spoken to by an Officer Jenny. Where did she come from? Whatever she’s saying, the protesters are saddened, lowering their signs, starting to disperse. You guess there’s some kind of regulation disallowing them from protesting after dark.

The whirring in your chest intensifies. Do all of those protesters struggle with Nightmares? How similar are they to yours? Do they feel all those side effects you’ve read about? Maybe you should be interviewing locals to discover their contents – if you can even be polite enough to go through with it these days – though does that really matter?

“Have you had any?” you say to Kanaya. “Since you’ve been here? Nightmares?”

Kanaya nods. “One. The first night I got here. I haven’t slept since then.”

Being a rainbow drinker has its perks during once in a lifetime pandemics like this. Ever since her abilities emerged nine sweeps ago, she’s been able to stay up for nights on end with energy.

“What happened in yours?” you asked her.

“The environment kept changing. Parts of it looked like the estimations of what Alternia looked like from history books. Rose – my Pokémon, Roselia, not, yeah – was lost and I was trying to find her. I never did.”

“Do you feel any different?”

Kanaya pauses, watching the protesters. “Angrier, maybe.”

She doesn’t look angry to you. Just her usual calm with a touch of nighttime solemnity.

“Angry about what?”

Another pause.

“He shouldn’t’ve just left you.”

The whirring in your chest is almost painful, then, in conjunction with the sting of those words. You’ve barely talked to her about his journey here, to anyone about it but your Pokémon, who can’t exactly give your their total thoughts. And they love him as much as you do – did – so even if they could, their thoughts would be biased.

You know that Kanaya knows more about what he’s been doing since he got here than you, because of Porrim’s “insider sources,” namely Elite Meenah’s matesprit Aranea, who claims to know “everything about everyone.” But both Maryams knew you weren’t ready for what little details they did know, and have since spared you.

“I mean. I knew when the contest was. I knew – or I _thought_ he was just saying that he was gonna go, but it didn’t make sense to, we hadn’t planned anything, I just – lost track of the days because of Feraligatr, and because Gamzee looked so fucking sad and off and – I didn’t think – “

You stop when Kanaya makes eye contact with you.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

You appreciate the sentiment, but objectively, you could’ve stopped it. All of this.

“Anyway.” Kanaya sets her sights on the Pokémon center. “Let’s go get one of those city brochure things.”

> Observe the city brochure thing

Helpfully, the Viridian welcome brochures, available just outside the doors of the center, consist of an overview of the gym challenge, including a list of the names of leaders, their specialties, and their chronological order, which you kept forgetting to download on top of all your other research – the badges are the secondary goal, not the primary –

But the ad in the center of the folds catches your attention first:

**Friday & Saturday Night [4/25 – 4/26]: The Semi-Annual Saffron Carnival Service**

_Hosted by the Kanto chapter of the Most High Subjuggulators_

_**-** Come for church, communion, and ascension!_

_\- Conference schedule and special guest preachers: TBA!_

_\- Pokémon welcome!_

_\- Must be an initiated member of the Most High for entry! *****_

“Why would you advertise this in public print if only the initiated are allowed?” you say.

“To encourage the currently faithless to join perhaps. To make them feel like they’re missing out on something. Like cheap makeup and extremely loud prayers.”

“This asterisk doesn’t even have a footnote!”

You only went to Carnival services with Gamzee with a handful of times, and you’d managed to get out of them for the last four sweeps you spent with him. He made you paint your face for the first – “it really helps you feel the motherfucking magic” – and it made you break out in a rash for weeks. The music was okay, but other than that, you hated every minute of it. They weren’t ever advertised as conferences with schedules and strict entry, though. Alolan Subjuggulators were much more laxed.

“You don’t want to go to that, do you.”

You look at Kanaya.

“What do you take me for? It’s not like I can, unless I suddenly feel the magical urge to believe in false clown gods that, _if_ they existed in physical form, died with the rest of the species. But. He might be there.”

The whirring in your chest clutches you tight. What does he look like now? Is his growth spurt still out of control? You saw a couple photographs taken for the gym opening during your research, a few days after he left you. His face paint was slightly different, more structured, but he looked the same. Except more tired, maybe.

What would you even say, if you found him in Saffron? What will you say wherever you find him?

The whirring in your chest suddenly subsides. You look up at the road ahead. Possibly Rose’s brother is gone.

You fold the pamphlet and shove it in the frontmost pocket of your belt.

“Alright, let’s just get through this forest. Hopefully Tropius here doesn’t get ambushed by Bugs mistaking her for a tree. And Growlithe – hey! Get back over here! Thank you. For the love of all hypothetical deities, leave the level 5 Caterpie alone, and _don’t_ set anything on fire.”

> Be possibly Rose’s brother, two hours in the future

You are back in your gym in Pewter City. You've been open for a few minutes. Normally, you’d be prepping the exclusive TM prizes, organizing your lengthy schedule of battle requests, and scheduling tours for kids not old enough to compete yet, who wanted to see the massive rockfalls your gym is famous for.

Tonight, you’re reading from your Pokégear’s News app about the failing economy, high up on your platform in your gym that will likely stay empty for the next eight hours. Dictating your findings out loud to Scrafty and Krokorok, who are also crazy about the economy – might be a bit too complex for their intelligence levels, but maybe not, they really just like when you read to them.

This is how your gym traffic has been for what feels like much longer than three months. The first month, some Kantonians were in denial about the Nightmares being A Thing. You don’t blame them really. You aren’t the most competitive and famous region in the world for nothing. You are a people full of steadfast, stubborn and brave. However, the longer humans, trolls and Pokémon experience the dreams, the more the symptoms build up and compound, the harder it gets to predict the long term effects.

You should know. You were always an anxious person, but lately, your anxiety’s been off the hook. Luckily you haven’t had a bout of vertigo in a month, but both of those were gnarly. Roxy almost made you stay in the apartment above her gym, instead of the apartment above yours, because she was so concerned.

(Meanwhile, your eldest sister is one of the very few people in Kanto who’ve experienced zero Nightmares. Probably got something to do with the Marshadow “allegedly” hanging around in her shadows. You don’t know what that thing can really do, because she refuses tell you, or how and why it even follows her, but you aren’t sure you even want to know. Ghosts kind of freak you the fuck out, despite you being the owner of one – technically two.)

“Bad news y’all,” you tell Krokorok and Scrafty. “Looks like ZZZ Corp, the maker of the Awakening, dropped two hundred points in the DOW just in the last week. Can’t keep up with demand, Mart investors in other regions are pulling out fast, product quality lower and lower, etc. Ironically that guy who keeps trying to sell me his shiny Magikarp for a fortune who works for the Corp was just telling me, and I quote, ‘business is booming.’ Although how can you trust a guy who thinks a future Red Gyarados is worth ten grand. Fish with an Old Rod for a week straight, like those guys who all look identical and won’t let you pass on the Snorlax bridge ‘til you battle ‘em and never seem to leave no matter what time of day it is, keep that ten k in my fucking pockets, am I right.”

Scrafty snickers and raises her hand for a high five, which you oblige. That one was kind of mediocre though, you’ve been running low on good monologue material lately, but hey, Scrafty’s easy to please.

Not so easy to please as of late, unfortunately, is Krokorok, who hasn’t been feeling at the top of her game ever since the Pandemic started. Somehow, her battle prowess hasn’t changed a lick, and in fact, is stronger than before – it’s like as soon as you send her through the BSI, she gets a crazy boost of energy that lasts the way through – but as soon as she comes out again, she’s out of it. It was actually her who started having Nightmares before you.

You hadn’t even heard the news about the phenomenon, the night she fell inflicted. You’d recently taken a two week vacation to your favorite place in the world, the Sevii Islands, to add more colorful personalities to your massive collection of Smeargle.

You were hoping to find another shiny, spent sun up to sun down admiring their artwork, letting them guide you through their caves to show you even more of their artwork, collabing with them on some pieces, and storing those who got attached to you – all of them – in your portable PC. The little guys and gals expect you a few times a year now.

You turned the cellular service of your Pokégear off this time, no texts no calls. Dirk and Rose weren’t too pleased about that, as you’d later found out. (Roxy’d been off the booze wagon again, though in that crazy genius way where she started building computers that didn’t even make sense, so she didn’t notice you were gone.) But you’d been in a funk lately, and full immersion in the islands always brought you out of it.

When you got back, Krokorok – who slept as close to you as physically possible every night, had since she hatched – started shaking in her sleep. You watched in fear and confusion as she struggled, but couldn’t wake, as two dream bubbles floated over her head: one with a troll sign you recognized, as if _that guy_ were communing with her right now, and in the other, two blinking cyan eyes that seemed to be staring right through you.

“Rose, what the fuck.”

You’d forgotten to turn your cell service back on when you got into Pewter a few hours ago. Your twin sister sighed on the other end of the phone, which you knew meant “it’s four in the morning.”

“I’ve been trying to tell you,” she said instead; you could hear the heavy breathing of her Galarian Rapidash in the background – who also insisted on sleeping as close to her as possible – which wasn’t a good sign. “Something really weird is going on.”

She informed you that, a few days after you left for Sevii, there was a sudden surge of doctors visits and hospitalizations, humans, trolls, and Pokémon alike. “Synonymous Nightmares,” she called them, which didn’t even make sense to you. All you knew was that you were currently trying everything – short of splashing Krokorok with water to the face, her weakness – to get her out of her fitful sleep. She wasn’t like this, ever. She was an even lighter sleeper than you were. And she looked like she was in pain.

“This is Gamzee’s sign.” You got up off your knees in front of your hammock-bed, went to the window. You sincerely doubted he was standing outside of your gym, since you and he basically steered clear of each other, but stranger things had happened involving Makara. “Why is Gamzee in her head from wherever the hell he is currently.”

“That I don’t know exactly.” She took a moment to calm and shush her Rapidash. “But of note, Gamzee’s currently missing. Foul play isn’t being reported as likely, but as you’re probably thinking as I say this, I call bullshit.”

You took Krokorok to the hospital wing of the Pewter Pokémon center, Klinklang insistent that they be out and about with you for it. You’d never seen so many bodies in the waiting room. Trainers cradling their Nightmare induced Pokémon, some of the trainers themselves looking really worse for wear, standing along walls, sitting on floors. It took an hour before you were seen by one of the poor Nurse Joys, who explained what medical facts they knew about what would soon be a regionwide Pandemic.

Most adults in the region are now either willfully or unwillingly putting up feats of insomnia. You’re horrible at it yourself, most mornings you don’t even bother trying to stay up. Those new energy drinks have been helping, but not enough. Roxy is insistent that a shot or two before bed helps cloud the mind, giving Gamzee’s and Darkrai’s powers less of a clean slate to work with. You’ve tried it a couple times, like Rose has, but you’ve never been able to drink like the rest of your siblings. Something about it reminds you of Mom too much. During the hangovers, you suddenly miss her like her death was yesterday.

Krokorok is nestled up against your side, as you lie on your back on the floor of your platform. She’s listening to your economy takes, you know, because she keeps doing that adorable nudge thing with her snout against your ribcage. But even the anti-anxiety meds aren’t returning her to a relatively normal state, the way they work with all your others. (Except Doublade. While Ghosts are normally doubly susceptible to Darkrai’s Bad Dreams, for a reason not even Nurse Joy plural can determine, your Doublade haven’t had any Nightmares.)

Klinklang’s Friendship ball starts rattling on the floor next to you. Though Klinklang are said to be fluent in emotions, you swear they can read your mind too at this point. They want to help you feel your way through the fullest extent of your worries about everything – about the fact that leader salaries keep getting cut by the week, though not that that affects you too badly because of your family name, which just makes you feel sort of guilty for even existing right now, if you’re honest – so many people are struggling, you feel like you don’t deserve your money. You make sure you give out very generous cash prizes along with your badge and TM, but it never feels like enough.

About the fact that Dirk is coming under fire – again – and you know there’s nothing you can do about it. Not while he’s power tripping like he has been for the last couple months. About Roxy, who’s up to something again, hanging around those sketchy Saffron Subjuggulators. About Rose, who’s as inscrutable as usual, but just as tired as you.

About the fact that something felt off with Terezi earlier. She’s always off-color and in-your-face, that’s sort of her brand, but she’s been completely unpredictable ever since Vriska somehow convinced her that they should join Team Rocket. Maybe Klinklang picked up on it and tried to get you to feel it too, but something about whatever ransom Rocket’s holding over her must’ve increased, or gotten worse, or something.

About the fact that you keep seeing Bro in your Nightmares, but you don’t want to think about that.

About that troll you met earlier. It hit you once you got back to the gym who that was. You’ve only seen a picture of him once, the faded photostrip of he and his “ex” morail when they were kids, which Gamzee’d shown to you in an uncomfortable moment of oversharing in his early days as a leader. But you also recognized the face of Kankri Vantas in the photo instantly, whose off the rails commentary on sociopolitical issues that barely anyone else noticed – and your parodies of them on your now abandoned, infamous anonymous “troll” blog – has made his face stick in your mind for sweeps now.

You just couldn’t remember this other one’s name. Gamzee had mentioned it, but Kankri never mentioned the guy, and in fact, virtually everyone who knew Kankri didn’t even know he had a dancestor. You only sussed it out because you’re, well, you. And something – you didn’t know what exactly, but Klinklang was clearly ahead of you on it – something was telling you that you had to find out why the only other mutant in existence was suddenly in Kanto. Why Terezi and Vriska fixated on him to that degree. Does his “ex” morail know he’s here? Does Kankri Jr. know something about all this that no one else does?

He was very much Not From Here, you could tell that by his attitude somehow, but also because of the way he dressed. Alolans are known for their tacky vacationer styles, bright mismatched colors and barely there shoes. But this guy was wearing one of their signature tropical printed shirts in a completely black and gray color scheme. It was like the antithesis of a vacation shirt. Is it ironic commentary on the futility of believing your fashion can change your mood?

You release Klinklang onto the platform next to you. Thankfully, instead of amplifying your emotion as they do about 80% of the time, this time, their gears slowly spin in reverse. You close your eyes for a minute, dropping your Pokémon gear onto your stomach. Take a deep breath, and

> Remember

You wouldn’t consider yourself a Pokémon minimalist, at least not ever since you’d acquired nearly two hundred Smeargle, but your main team of five and you all have pretty special origin stories. While the saying goes that you catch them, yours caught you.

Your first Pokémon was your Klang, when you were eight. While you were on vacation with your family in Hoenn, you wandered off from them while at one of the farmers’ markets, wandering out of town limits and getting deeply lost in a Route. You didn’t know how long you spent going in circles, it felt like the rest of your life, and you were too afraid to ask anyone around for help. Just as you felt that you were going to drop into the tall grass and cry yourself to sleep, the Klang appeared before you.

It’s soothing reverse gear mechanism was the first time you ever connected, and you’ve been hooked since. It calmed you down, and you followed it back into the town limits. You found Bro, Mom and your siblings not long after, talking to two Officer Jennys. (You would later find out from Dirk that they didn’t even notice you were gone for a couple of minutes, but luckily you’re done with your adolescent internalizing about the “meaning of that” or whatever.) Bro caught the Klang for you, registering it under your name instead of his, so that when you were of age, it would be your starter Pokémon.

Your Sandile was a gift to you on your tenth birthday, from your childhood best friends John and Jade, nicknamed “Snoop Dogg.” You’re not a nickname person at all, but you appreciated the sentiment. Jade’s Grandpa – rest in peace – was a seasoned breeder who let John and Jade pick what they thought would be the perfect partners for you and Rose. (John’s request to give you “an ironic Bidoof” was overrided by Jade, who thought that was “too obvious, and lame, and not strong enough.” John later argued that “giving him the lizard with shades was obvious too!”) You and Rose also gave John and Jade birthday gifts – though John was the only one without a birthday in December, you tended to lump him into your annual joint birthday party – who’ve grown up to be their Altaria and Stoutland respectively.

You found your first Smeargle and Scrafty on the same day when you were fourteen, the first time you ever took a solo trip to the Sevii Islands. (You’d been once with Mom when you were eight, but only observed the artists from her boat, didn’t go too near them.) Weirdly, when you went alone this time, you found this Scrafty who’d wandered into the Smeargle colony, asking its new friends to paint it so that it looked like matched their coloring. Your Pokédex had informed you that it used to belong to a trainer, originally from Galar based on the ID, who’d abandoned it all the way in Sevii for some awful reason.

It took to you quickly, and to your surprise, not only had it learned how to paint from the Smeargle, but it was fixated on depicting trolls – very abstract trolls, more like the idea of a troll, but still. You’ve been obsessed with her and her kinning antics ever since. The shiny Smeargle who apparently found her – you could tell because they followed each other constantly – insisted on being brought home with her as well.

Doublade’s story, unfortunately, is not as lighthearted. If you could go back and tell sixteen year old you the night before that you were going to bond this hard with two terrifying Ghost swords, he’d tell you you were going senile early.

The first night of your gym opening in Pewter should’ve been a celebration. It was, for all intents and purposes: Brock made a show of it, and so did your siblings, and you should’ve felt like you were on cloud nine. But that night was also the eight year anniversary of your mother’s death. As you had been for the past two years, later that night, you returned to the scene of the explosion that took her.

Or at least, you tried. Deep within Cerulean Cave, underground, there used to be a secret research laboratory owned by the late Dr. Fujii. It’s the famous location that the legendary Mewtwo destroyed when he discovered his origins in 2006, killing everyone in the lab. Your mother, Roxy Lalonde Sr., was one of Fujii’s top researchers investigating one of the oldest Pokémon in the world, Mew. In fact, as you would discover post-mortem, it was she who first spotted Mew near the ancient temple in Guyana.

Your dad – who was always called Bro – had been missing for six years at that point, which you all took to mean that he was gone. He vanished only one day after the two year anniversary of his wife’s death. According to the only somewhat-witness to the event, the ever elusive Damara Megido, he was taken by a Dusclops who absorbed him when he got he too close, while he was rouge-investigating Team Rocket operations at the Lavender Radio Tower. Damara lived at the top of the Tower, never came out, and defended her dwelling with a Spiritomb that nobody wanted to fuck with. She famously wiped her hands of any of the Tower ghosts’ doing. Though there was a rumor she could, mostly because her dancestor Aradia famously could, Damara insisted that she couldn’t control them. She only ever heard them whisper about their crimes, but how could you prosecute Pokémon?

You started revisiting the site of the Mewtwo explosion – though never underground at the ruins, just Cerulean Cave itself – because you always felt like you could feel something calling you there. Quite possibly Mew itself. Roxy went with you the first time you felt the call, saying she’d been feeling the same way, and both of you witnessed its signature cry, saw a flash of violet light.

Once your newly acquired gym cleared out for the night, you journeyed to the Cave alone, but as usual, you got lost for about two hours, refusing the help of Klink, as you were feeling enough already. Enough wrong turns and you ended up in a strange, open, grassy clearing, somewhere near the top of the Cave. The trees embedded in the walls formed a halo above you, a solo beam of moonlight surrounding a sword in a stone and a massive crow, directly in the center of the clearing.

You got closer and realized the crow was wearing a suit of armor, had glowing red eyes.

“So are you just a normal crow with a macabre sense of fashion and the coolest fucking sword I’ve seen on this side of Snorlax, or are you a Pokémon.”

The bird thrust its sharp beak so close to your face, you froze. It was a Pokémon alright, the way you felt seized, suddenly cold to the bone. It cried out, so loud that it echoed and you recoiled, then flied to escape through the cavern opening.

You pulled out your Dex and caught aim just as it disappeared out of view. You waited for the Dex to load – “c’mon, bro, I need – “ and nearly dropped it in excitement when it was finished.

_Corviknight, the Raven Pokémon, is native to the Galar region._

“Huh.” You shook the Dex. “That’s it?”

_Google search engines have not provided any more data at this time._

“Cool. Fuckin’ Google.”

_It is not my fault that -_

“Yeah I know, you’re just a slave to the machine.”

Your Pokédex was possessed by a defective Rotom. When you were eleven, you found the “Alolan Dex” buried in the sand on the shore of the moat surrounding Cerulean Cave. You didn’t know why at the time, but you felt attached to it. Most Rotom could leave and enter any technology they wished, but this one was somehow stuck to this Kanto technology from 2000. Whatever trainer had it before tried to completely wipe the software, which in some cases can kill a Rotom attached. But five years after you found it, this one was kicking, monotone and steady. Even if, half the time, its entries were wrong or incomplete.

You held the Dex up to the blade in the rock. Chances are, that wasn’t just a sword either.

_Honedge, the Sword Pokémon._

“Oh shit, is it really a sword?”

_Don’t. Dual type: Steel, Ghost. Level: 34. Honedge's soul belonged to a person who was killed by the sword that makes up its body._

You shivered when the eye engraved in the hilt blinked at you. But somehow, you felt this magnetic pull towards the weapon, a combination of fear and compulsion that you would soon learn to live with. Almost as if you weren’t controlling yourself, you tried to grab it, but the blue cloth dangling from it wrapped tight around your arm, suplexing you to the ground.

It tightened and wringed, and you could feel it getting stuck to your skin as it pulled. You threw Klink out into the clearing, immediately feeling its alarm in your chest.

Klink Thunder Waved the Honedge into paralysis, causing it to loosen its grip, you to stumble back. Honedge then used a contact move with its blade, which knocked Klink out in one hit. The Dex said the move was called Sacred Sword, fighting type, and nothing else.

You threw Scrafty out and weakened it with Sucker Punch. With that significant damage and the paralysis, you caught it in a panic.

You stared at the Ultra ball in your hands, which where still shaking.

“Why did I catch this. Holy shit why did I catch this.”

_Sometimes, a Pokémon may be caught if it is too dangerous to be escaped from or knocked out._

One of the rare times the Rotom told you exactly what you needed to hear.

You had the most advanced kind of Ultra ball that let you view data and a hologram of them in their digital environment. As you observed Honedge in its pitch black sphere, still paralyzed, the Pokéball’s network connected with your Dex, informing it with a more updated entry:

_The origin of this Pokémon is a great tale: it is said that Honedge are ancient swords possessed by a departed spirit. Should people try to grab the sword, Honedge will attack them by wrapping its sash around their arm, slowly draining the life energy from their body. Moral of the story: be careful around ancient swords._

“Awesome. Would’ve been sweet to know that.”

You perched yourself on the rock, catching your breath, then minimizing the ball, cautiously fixing it to your belt. Draining your life energy? How much had it just taken? Shouldn't you just release this thing? But what if it held a vendetta or something? You then called Roxy to come spring you out of the Cave.

When you got back to Pewter, utilizing her Kadabra’s Teleport, she went upstairs with you to your new gym-attached apartment. Everything was still in boxes, the place basically bare. Your furniture wouldn’t be in for a couple of days.

She observed the paralyzed weapon quietly when you let it out, which she had to convince you to do for almost ten minutes. It unnerved you some when Roxy was quiet. She was arguably more talkative than you were. Especially back then.

“Yeah I’m thinking this sword is Bro, bro.”

Your heartbeat skipped. “What? Why would you say that?”

“I’m just f-ing with you. That’d be pretty insane and spooky as hell. But yeah I’ono I think you should keep it.”

You watched as the sword floated calmly above your floor. Though the paralysis could’ve been why, it wasn’t as nearly on the offense as it had been in the clearing. You stared down at your forearms, at the darker imprints you could still see from when it grabbed you.

“Apparently it stole some of my life energy. I don’t know about you but I’m not trying to slowly die because of a goddamn ribbon.”

Roxy came to look at your forearms, turning them over in her gloved hands. You didn’t tell her that was where it grabbed you.

“They look fine to me dude. I can’t explain why, I just reeeally think you should keep it. I just have that feeling. Like I did with Marshadow.”

You tried to make eye contact with her, but she was still looking at the sword.

“But not because it’s Bro,” you said.

“I’m really serious I was f-ing with you. I’m sorry I even said that it was fucked. It’s been a super long day.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean we don’t even know if he – y’know. But this ain’t the plot of a video game as much as I wish it _were._ It’s prob’ly just a regular human ghost from like five hundred years ago or whatever.”

Now she was looking at you, finally. She looked the most like Mom to you, and was taking up the role as best as she could.

“Why did you bring up Marshadow?”

“Do you want its opinion on it? It’s been following me since I left the crib.”

You checked the shadowed corners of your crib, finding nothing unusual. But then, you’d only “seen it” once so far, a flicker of glowing orange under Roxy’s shadow one day.

“Nah. But. It was weird. It was like obviously I shouldn’t have wanted to go anywhere near it, especially after the Corviknight scared the shit out of me ten seconds before. But there I was still reaching for it, and the moonlight was hitting it like a spotlight, and it felt like it was. Waiting there. For me specifically. Like a set up.”

Roxy raised a brow. “Like a sketchy set up? Like from a human trying to trick you or something?”

“No. It was the Corviknight. It didn’t attack me, it just. Gave me this serious look. And then left me alone with the sword.”

Roxy put her hand on your shoulder.

“You got chose.”

She sighed, shaky on the exhale. Was she crying?

“Let’s me and Rosey do some research.” The shake was suddenly gone from her voice. “Like what tf is the scientific unit of measurement used for ‘life energy’ etc. People use and train these things, so if it likes and trusts you and vice vers, it’s prob’ly not gonna _kill you_ with it. It may just take like 0.002% of your life every time you use it, which isn’t so bad.”

“I guess.”

“But I would try to let it like, show you what its deal is. I mean it’s just chillin’ here now. You know they can still try to fight or run away or do something weird if they’re paralyzed. But like you said. It’s waiting for you.”

Roxy’s Pokégear blinged in her sweatshirt pocket.

“Shit. That’s Dirk. We were doing a thing when you called.”

“Go.” You swallowed hard. “Thanks.”

“Let me know if you need anything!”

She released her Kadabra, and they vanished.

Honedge continued to stare harmlessly. You released your four mains, Klink, Krokorok, Smeargle, Scrafty. They were no longer on the offense either, since they recognized that you caught this one. They made you feel safe.

You got close enough that you could see your reflection in its blade. God, you looked exhausted. These anniversaries never got any easier.

Then suddenly, it hit you. You’d been holding it in all day. But it was gonna have to come out sometime, whether it be on the actual day or a few months later.

You dropped to your knees and cried quietly. All you could see was the newspaper photo you would never forget, of the burned up remains of the laboratory. It would be over in a minute, maybe less. You just needed to get it out.

You could hear Krokork’s claws scratching on the floor behind you, but suddenly, you felt – and heard, as it worked through the bolts of paralysis – Honedge’s cloth gently touch your right forearm. You froze, staring it in defense, but its movements were soft. It didn’t hurt, didn’t stick. It just made a slow motion up and down your skin. That feeling of compulsion and fear, but more compulsion now, allowed you to allow it to wrap its cloth around your wrist. It just barely squeezed, comforting, and made a noise that you recognized was its cry.

By the time Krokorok and the others were beside you, you'd given Honedge a Paralyze Heal, and Honedge’s cloth had wrapped itself through every part of your hand. You didn’t know why, but you felt like it understood what you were going though in this moment, on this day, for the last eight years. Compared to the others, a Ghost innately understood death and loss. It was trying to help, whatever way it knew how.

On the floor of your gym, six years later, your introspection is interrupted by a notification on your Pokégear. It appears you’re getting a battle request already, just a half hour after opening. Shit, you should probably change again. You were planning on chilling in pajamas until someone came.

> Open request

**Trainer:** Karkat Vantas

 **Age:** 22 sweeps

 **Region:** Alola, Ula’Ula

 **Type:** 3x3 Single battle, OU clauses, No revives, Rematch optional

 **Location:** Kanto, Pewter City Gym

“Holy shit. Yeah I really gotta change. Up and at em’, Krokorok. We’re getting down early tonight.”

> Be Karkat

Pewter City is slightly more populated than Viridian, but not by much. The sun is only a sliver, painting the sky in dark blues and teals, the lights of the apartments, shops, gym and museum twinkling under the moon.

Most of the passages and clearings in Viridian Forest ended up being too narrow for Tropius to pass through, and you refused to Fly way above the trees, causing you to have to go on foot for most of the way. Which was fine, god knew you needed the exercise, though you could’ve done without that Pikachu with heart shaped patches picking a bone with Growlithe – or likely vice versa – causing a nearly twenty minute delay that one of Kanaya’s Chansey had to mediate.

“Okay,” Kanaya says, when you reach the Pokécenter plaza. Her skin is glowing in full now. Every once in a while, you consider asking her to bite you, cringing internally at imagining yourself doing that. You don’t care about looking effervescent or whatever the fuck, but it would be nice to gain the supertroll strength, the added calm. The thirst for blood you could manage, perhaps. You doubt a mutant would survive the transformation, though.

“Just let me know when you’re done at the Babysitter,” you tell her. “And thanks, for coming with me.”

“No problem."

“This shouldn’t take long, first one’s always pretty straightforward, right? Fuck, I forgot to look up who the first gym leader even is, I remember glancing at it when I got here but I had to have read at least a hundred articles after I read that – ”

Kanaya smiles, as you unfold the welcome pamphlet in your front pocket.

“Pewter...Dave Strider.”

“ _Dave!”_ You can suddenly hear that troll Rocket agent saying the name loud and clear.

“No fucking way.”

Kanaya looks at you expectantly.

“It’s a really common human name, right? Kanto is like 90% humans, there’s gotta be at least ten Daves in the city of Pewter alone.”

“You seem to have just now realized that possibly Rose’s brother is your first battle.”

“Fuck off, that’s not funny. Wouldn’t his last name be Lalonde?”

“The males in the family retained the surname of their father after his dea- disappearance – while the women took the surname of their late mother.”

“Cool. Fantastic. I’d ask why you even know that, but I figure its just one of the basic tenets of your everlasting shrine to her.”

Kanaya averts her gaze, smiles wider.

You stoop down to give Growlithe a Sitrus berry from your belt, feeling your face burn hot. More awkward as fuck conversations were ever coming. You might even have to apologize.


	4. Showdown in Pewter City

> Be Dave

You change into your lucky white t-shirt – defaced with the surprised Pikachu meme – jeans, and real shoes instead of Skitty slippers. Not that you think the hot troll cares what you’re wearing.

Yes, Klinklang convinced you, that is what you thought of him when you battled. You’d always thought Kankri was, looks-wise only no matter what he managed to say, and was planning on telling no one – especially not Terezi – because what was the point. Now here is Kankri’s likeness with more bulk and none of the pomp and circumstance.

You wait downstairs in the lobby, watch him approach the double glass doors. He thinks they push at first and he gives them a hard blow, as if he were going to burst in here with his intentions. He pauses, takes a deep, soothing breath. And lets Growlithe in before him.

He marches up to you, seems to want to get whatever awkwardness happened before out of the way immediately, has a speech prepared.

“I realize I may have come off like I was bothered by your mere presence in my perimeter, and I may or may not have been giving you a very strong ‘why the fuck is he talking to me’ look.”

“Yeah I’d call it that.”

“I’d prefer it if in this battle, which will be our only one, you don’t make unasked for comments about things like my use of a first evolution, which was, yes, the only option I had at the time, because I went out to take a quick walk, not to get robbed by two trolls who are apparently friends of yours.”

You’re quickly starting to realize that he may not be that different from Kankri, in terms of upfront wordiness. The closer you are, however, the more you see that he’s not an exact mirror. Much bolder bone structure, stronger browline. The red fills his irises even more, so much that they look alarmingly like yours. People say that this particular mutant hemotype is nearly chemically identical to humans’ – or at least, that’s what Kankri and the few scientists he’s allowed to test him are pushing as the leading theory – but Karkat’s is brighter, a touch of fuchsia, even, if his eyes are anything to go by.

You realize you’ve been staring into his eyes and contemplating them deeply instead of responding.

“Terezi’s an ex friend, sort of, and Vriska’s just around all the time. I could’ve come at them some type of way to get the belt but Vriska would’ve had no problem hurting me, and you. Better way to deal with Rocket is to just tell whoever you can what you know. One of these nights someone’s gonna figure out how to de-legitimize boonbucks as a cryptocurrency.”

Karkat looks like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.

“I’m saying I’m sorry there wasn’t more I could do.”

“No, I get that.” And he really looks like he does, all of a sudden. Until: “I’m sorry my default look is so hateful. I think humans call that ‘resting bitch face.’”

He does this vicious, dramatic flaying with his claws on the air quotes, so much so that you can’t tell if he’s making fun of humans or if he’s sorry. Maybe he hates humans. Would be a very amusing reversal of Kankri’s strange worship of them. You already kind of love it.

“And by the way, my highest leveled is a first evo because he fucking refuses Fire Stones. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“You know they make an injection for that.”

Karkat’s jaw drops. “You think I’m gonna stab him in his sleep with something he obviously hates?”

“Nah not saying I agree with it or anything.” You don’t add that you’ve been having to find very creative ways to give your Pokémon anti-anxiety meds for the last four months. They don’t like how they taste – or something else you can’t figure out – but the consequences of not taking them are worse, unfortunately. Plus Krokorok seems to hate the idea of evolving right now, too, and you haven’t been able to find the stone that Doublade needs to.

Karkat’s expression relaxes again, and yeah, he’s definitely really hot. You wish that would stop distracting you.

“You sound pretty confident that we aren’t gonna needa rematch,” you say.

“Because we aren’t.”

Growlithe starts grumbling at you. Karkat pulls the heavier part of his belt around to his front, digging through it, and why would someone with arms like that wear such a huge shirt? Focus, Dave. He gives Growlithe a Shuca berry, meant to weaken Ground attacks, then pulls his Pokégear from the back pocket of his shorts. Those are baggy too, and you wonder if –

“You still haven’t accepted my request.” Karkat’s looking at his screen, not you. “Is this how it works, you have a circular conversation with me in person to determine whether or not you acquiesce to my parameters?”

“Setup’s fine.” You’d forgotten while spending five minutes trying to figure out what TM to give someone like him. And what shirt to wear. “But unlike the home of the Guardians, here in Kanto our challenges are scaled so repeat trainers and veteran tourists don’t get to sweep. Not going easy on you just ‘cause I’m the first.”

“I’ve seen what you can do.” Karkat looks you up and down. Your face burns. “No Dragons or Ghosts here, so your embarrassing little Sketch strategy is moot.”

“You don’t know what kinda strategy I got in my belt.”

“Well drop trow then!” You’re a little shocked by the sudden rise in tone, finally hit ‘accept.’ “And show me something good, or you can keep wasting my fucking time with this talking.”

You wonder how things ever worked with him and someone like Gamzee.

You’re staring without responding again.

“Right so yeah let’s. Go upstairs.”

When he passes you, you can feel the heat coming from his skin. You’d chalk it up to the Growlithe, but you feel that heat wave separate from his.

Klingklang rebounds your romantic energy when you reascend to them at your rocky platform, or that’s them asking to be chosen first, tomato, tomato. Karkat emerges from the entrance to the player square, about twelve feet below you, across a small valley of jagged stones, surrounded by ancient cliffwalls. You normally have to shout for challengers to hear you, though the echo helps, but you have a feeling Karkat won’t have trouble reaching you.

You activate your BSI, uploaded with its signature shitty .jpeg format. You can’t read what the selections say for shit, but you have them all memorized. It’s actually trained you to react quicker in battle, one of its many unintended roundabout benefits. It also makes it so that those battling up close can’t see what you’re planning.

You select Klinklang first, and they happily float below to the arena.

Karkat smirks, baring fang points at you. Growlithe jumps in the ring. Your weakness.

“Lame,” you tell him. He smiles wider. Holy shit. He doesn’t wear that face enough. You don’t even know him and you can tell.

You decide not to withdraw, opting for Klingklang to set up with Shift Gear, as someone as seasoned as him probably won’t attack outright. Growlithe moves first and uses Fire Spin around the entire gym perimeter, looping your platform into it, and hell, that’s a really unconventional and slightly unnerving use of it. You’re guessing his whole team will be. Thank god the whole inner perimeter is made of thick rock, ceiling too high for the flames to catch.

> Gear Grind

With their boosted speed, Klinklang fling two of their concentric rings. Growlithe takes half damage, tossed along stone, but bounces back on his feet quick, his bark ferocious. That should’ve done more damage than that, you think.

> Flamethrower

You watch as a massive bowl of molten rushes from the hound’s mouth. A tsunami of fire swallowing poor Klinklang, crashing down before your stoop, rocking and slipping up the cliffs. You’ve seen Fire Blast from Pokémon with base stats that should be higher than a Growlithe’s look and feel much less spectacular than this.

There was always that reason Makara had such an insane religious following in Saffron. Still does. You’ve seen the numbers from people who’ve had him dream with their Pokémon for yourself. The problem was that most people couldn’t even get one or two visits with him, not even the rest of you gym leaders. So most numbers you saw were cool, but marginal. Hypothetically, yeah, if he did it on a daily or weekly basis or something, the results would be crazy OP.

Someone in the Elite Four would probably have to get some laws approved by the Governor to cap that sort of – what could be considered – cheating. Which they couldn’t have possibly known existed until now, since this one troll who can do it is some stoner recluse from Ula’Ula. Guess whose older brother, the current Champion, didn’t put a cap on it? Citing xenophobia and Gamzee’s use of psychics as “freedom of speech.”

Gamzee seemed to give certain Team Rocket agents and Subjuggulators more dreams, but because how of much everyone knows each other on all sides of the political sphere, you don’t know exactly who got extra boosts, or why. There are allegiance ties that go beyond your comprehension sometimes. Hell, Roxy has probably seen Gamzee since the Pandemic started. Whether or not she remembers what Marshadow shows her when it takes her Elsewhere, or whether or not she’s just not telling you where her allegiances lie all the time, that’s up for grabs. Neither Roxy nor Gamzee “should be able to” occupy the realms of the likes of Giratina, Darkrai, Marshadow, Dialga, Palkia. Somehow, they are.

Karkat has known strange power like Gamzee’s his whole life, from what you can tell. He’s going to have little issue with the Kanto badges, besides maybe Sollux and Roxy. If Karkat is anything like Kankri, the second Eridan cheats, Karkat will find several ways to argue the results of the battle invalid. It’s actually not too hard, almost everyone gets the badge from him after a reversal like that. It’s a meme at this point.

When the lava fades, pooling and steaming at the earth, you see Growlithe returned at Karkat’s post, sitting at the heels of a hypothetical throne. Though the burning effect is loud in your theater, you can still hear him yell,

“What was that about first evolutions?”

Your next choice is easy. The ball almost floats out of your hand.

“Krokorok.” Your shaded friend slaps your shin with her tail. “Do the windy thing.”

> Sandstorm + Whirlwind

The use of combined status moves is controversial, and the update for the Gear is expensive, but you think you’ve earned the advantage here, and they’re perfectly legal in Kanto. In moderation. You should’ve warned Karkat down there about wearing protective eyegear, but his BSI screen blocks a good amount of it, and you kind of need any advantage you can get here. Because of the Fire Spin trap, Whirlwind doesn’t force switch the opponent, rather adds more disorienting currents to the Sandstorm. Growlithe counters with another Flamethrower, nearly KO-ing Krokorok – yeah this thing’s base stats must be insane by now – but your next move should get him.

> Earthquake

Karkat really does not like Earthquakes. He cowers until it’s over, straightening up when he knows you’ve noticed, then walks into the ring, dodging leftover flame and rock, to pick Growlithe up and haul him over to his platform. He uses a Max Revive, letting Growlithe recover near his feet, but tags the Pokémon out of the BSI lineup.

> Feraligatr

This level 92 Feraligatr has clearly seen some shit, rocking the earth when he lands. You aren’t even relieved by the prosthetic leg, the missing eye. In fact, you’re more intimidated by them.

> Ice Fang

His mouth coated in icicles, Feraligatr moves fast as fuck, faster than he probably has any right to, and has no issue KO-ing Krokorok. You gander that outside of battle, the full force of those fangs could’ve probably killed her.

As you recall Krokorok, you wish you could ask him what on earth was strong enough to maim this Feraligatr, but you figure he wants to keep this fight quieter than that.

“I’d ask what that was about a rematch," he says, "but I figure you’re starting to regret even saying anything about it at this point."

You release Doublade into your hands, one sword each, and he startles a bit.

“Never seen these IRL, huh? It’s cool if you wanna pull out the Dex and take a moment to fanboy, I’ll wait.”

“You’ll be waiting on your deathbed.”

He then waits for you to throw them into the ring, but you don’t.

“You don’t actually use them like real swords, right?” Karkat snorts. “I can’t have the responsibility of trying to make sure Feraligatr doesn’t annihilate your fragile human skeletal system. The BSI numbs their pain receptors, not yours.”

“Just make a move.”

His thick eyebrows rise, but he makes a selection.

> Sacred Sword 2x combo

You learned from an ancient tome that Rose discovered for you, that the Honedge line works best as a projectile, you and them working in conjunction. If your soul bond is strong enough – if you’ve been their life energy feeding source for long enough – letting their sashes touch you before they attack adds to their strength. The good old “love between trainers and Pokémon” boost that no one can pin down to a science.

Once they’ve charged from you with their cloths, you hurl them both in tandem with precision, hitting Feraligatr on both sides, and you feel guilty for injuring a senior citizen until Feraligatr replies with

> Hydro Pump

Even with the Wide Lens attached, the massive pulse of ocean misses, sliding you into the sweet spot left open by 90% Accuracy as opposed to 80. Feraligatr still has 60% HP after Sacred Sword though, damn did Makara ever boost this team’s stats. Doublade aren’t even leveled that much lower at 88. You’re pretty sure you lost as soon as Feraligatr landed.

You’d use Power Trip to balance its Attack if you had time, but you summon Doublade back.

> Iron Head

This one really relies on the force of your throw, so you wind them back, hurl from your side. But their Iron only dings Feraligatr to 30%, even STAB, even with you, and then you’re done for.

> Crunch

Tendrils of Darkness spew from his jaws as he lands the final super effective blow.

Normally you’re a fan of how quick the battles go with veterans, hit and run, lots of explosions, easy money. But as Karkat calls Feraligatr to his platform, inspecting his prosthetic, giving his snout a caress – god, that’s adorable, even though both of them objectively scare you – you wish you could do this with him longer, do it again.

Once he’s recalled Feraligatr, and your BSI recognizes his win, Karkat’s platform starts to lift via hydraulics to bring him to yours, and he jumps – looks like he thought it was an Earthquake aftershock – but dons his resting bitch face shortly after. You’ve never seen someone look so blasé after beating you.

Hopefully he thinks a Brutal Swing TM and $6000 were worth his time.

> Be the future owner of a Boulder Badge

Why he couldn’t have just asked you to swing around and head upstairs to meet him for his post-battle commentary, you don’t bother asking. But you don’t appreciate the unexpected jolt of the platform moving. You think you’ve experienced enough strong Earthquakes for the night. For the rest of your life. Nor do you think you’re ready to be so close to Dave again.

While you admit that you’ve always made fun of Kanaya for thinking so, mostly just to fuck with her, you’ve always objectively realized how beautiful Rose Lalonde is. Dave is no different. Objectively. They look like the blueprints for how humans look at their ideal, the kinds you see as models in magazines: delicate, natural glow to the skin, perfectly curled hair. You’d’ve probably seen this guy in the tabloids you think, if you read them. The Kanto ones.

(You doubt he’s in them much, though, based on his unassuming dress and the fact that he seems to have an aversion to letting people see his eyes.)

“No rematch wanted, don’t worry,” Dave says when you reach him; you pick Growlithe up, still recovering, and carry him over the threshold with you, putting him back down at your feet. “You must be strong from carrying him so much.”

“No kidding.” You wipe the excess fur on your hands onto your shirt.

“So you’re the mysterious morail.”

“What?”

“Gamzee talked about you. Sometimes. In leader company. Swear we all thought he just made you up, though. You sounded like – too good to be true.”

You certainly weren’t expecting to hear that. You don’t know why Gamzee's never reached out to you, you couldn’t even be certain that he hadn’t forgotten you entirely due to whatever brainwashing he’s under. You almost wish he had, instead of hearing this from a stranger.

“The absolute concept of you thinking that that business – if it even existed – has anything whatsoever to do with you, I can’t believe it, you defecation of a human being, you rash on the festering sphincter of the filthiest beast. It would be less painful to force a burning poker down my chitinous windhole than it would be to entertain this train of thought."

> Be Dave for a second

You stare. You’ve never heard anyone say anything like that to you. You’re almost impressed by the gross creativity, and figure its meant to be hyperbolic anyway. Could not be, though.

> Be Karkat, consider apologizing for the hyperbole

You fail to consider apologizing.

“You’re right, none of my Beedrill’s wax,” Dave says. He doesn’t look fazed in the slightest by your insult, though he does look impressed by his own mediocre pun. And it’s not like you can tell much of what he’s feeling behind those shades. Who wears sunglasses indoors, at night? “Just thought I’d explain why I recognized you earlier I guess. Even though I kinda didn’t realize that was you ‘til I got back.”

“Your insertion into the business, it persists.”

“Okay, how ‘bout this then. Can I ask you if you know why he’s able to sic vivid Nightmares on so many people? That may also be business that I ain’t privvy to, but we’ve been living in this weird alternate dimension for months, so. Can’t really blame me for asking a guy who knows where he’s from and may have some kinda solution.”

Okay, you calm down. Since Gamzee appears to have spoken of you before, in enough detail that you're recognizable, Dave may not be the only leader who directly asks you about him. In fact, _they_ have the massive advantage of dealing with him this past sweep. They can probably give you the most insight as to how to reach him outside of his religious brethren, who you hope are the last resource you’ll have to go through.

“Now I am an outsider here, so maybe you know more about this than me. But it must have something to do with the Darkrai that no one can determine the finite existence of.”

“Darkrai’s definitely real, trust.”

Good. This one’s getting you somewhere already. You remember something.

“How was your Smeargle able to use its move?”

“Best explanation I have is that she either saw Darkrai in her dreams or was close enough to it that she was able to Sketch something. But as to how exactly moves can not only be learned while sleeping, but also transported from dream conscious to waking conscious, I got no fucking clue. No way in hell I’m Sketching over it though, for any of those naysaying conspiracy theorists who still think Darkrai’s involvement is a hoax. Guess if she decides to get rid of it that’s not up to me, but she hasn’t yet.”

He talks out of the side of his mouth a touch, dimples appearing around certain words. This is completely useless information you’ve gathered.

“To go back to your prior inquiry,” you go on, “Purpleblood chucklevoodoos aren’t always dreambound, and in fact, I’ve never met any whose voodoos have that effect except for his dancestor, who basically stopped using them after he sewed his own mouth shut.”

“Kinda a baller move not gonna lie.”

“The world is certainly a better fucking place for it, let’s say that. But Gamzee never - “ you get distracted a bit when Dave licks his lips. Focus, Karkat. “Used them on anything but Pokémon, and though the average voodoos deal in fear and internal pain, he never harmed anything he dreamed with.”

You realize you still haven’t told Dave whether or not you have a solution. Nor do you want to tell him that your current makeshift plan involves shooshpapping Gamzee out of his misery, or if that doesn’t work, quite possibly kidnapping him and taking him back to Alola.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where he is.”

“You know better than me, dude. I certainly wouldn’t be standing my ass here if I did.”

Anger flares in you, then. Do people here want to harm him?

“And what exactly would you be doing in that case, huh?”

Dave senses your animosity, you think.

“Dunno. Trying to talk him out of whatever he’s doing at the very least. I wouldn’t even dream – ha, get it, dream – of throwing hands with the guy or anything like it. Though I may come off so cool and collected that it’d be guaranteed I could fight if I wanted to, I’ve never even been in one and wouldn’t know hell to do if I was.”

“Not really getting cool and collected from you, no,” you say, even though you are. Expressionless, better yet.

“Damn. If my cultivated image – and by that I mean _un_ cultivated cause obviously you don’t have to try to be cool or else you wouldn’t be – isn’t working on foreigners I gotta rework the whole drawing board. Get back in here Mr. Mime, thought the pilot for the show was a go but editor-in-chief Mr. Vantas here just brought back a grip of detailed edits.”

It throws you that he knows your surname. At least you can safely guess that someone like this has probably forgotten the minor detail of the Sufferer from Alternian history lessons, as most humans do with most details once they’ve graduated.

Granted, Kankri doesn’t ever shut the fuck up about it on public platforms, mostly to criticize the guy’s writings, which were painstakingly preserved and transcribed into English by the Dolorosa before she died. You haven’t read them, but.

You stupidly remember that Dave just saw your surname in the battle request. You forgot to edit it out, which was fucking important. If those Rocket agents didn’t know who you were before, they do now. Your lack of sleep is sort of killing your attention to detail. You're trying your best.

Dave is really good at distracting you from the point.

“My turn for a question," you say. "Why doesn’t anyone _know_ if he’s on Mt. Silver? I get the trek to the top must be a pain in the fucking bulge slit, but if he’s causing you this much disruption, why not just scour over every inch of his hiding place? Put him in Cinnabar’s prison or figure out where the Darkrai came from.”

Dave nods. “Good questions. Officer Jenny plural here in Kanto went up there for weeks in the beginning. Excavation teams and private investigators too, they had drones flying above to detect movement, helicopters, the whole nine, going through every nook and cranny in the mountainside. Not like. That kinda nook.”

“Obviously, pervert.”

“Anyway uh. Unfortunately the mountain was fucking frozen, ‘cause it was January, which made things hard. And nope, they never did find him. They did, however, once find a sopor slime trail written in Alternian on a path, can’t remember the translation ‘cause it was some generic positive mantra like you’d read in a greeting card, which was proof enough to them I guess, and why there’s this rumor. Oh and he also said something to Terezi about it, which was the only finger she lifted towards the investigation. She had to have been the Rocket whistleblower. Not confirmed.

“Problem is moving forward that technically, Mt. Silver is in Johto. So Johto, who closed their border to us like a week after the news broke, which was weird, forbade the Kanto police from investigating in one of their territories starting in February, thinking the Nightmares might be contagious, that they might pass it on to the handful of Johto citizens who dare hike the thing. When it was officially discovered by scientists that it wasn’t an airborne infection, ‘cause why would that even make sense, but hey I really don’t know how troll psychics work anyway, Johto reopened the borders. But by then the Kanto police had their hands full with the assistance they had to give to Pokécenter nurses and doctors, the protests in Viridian which used to be _way_ bigger, and the citizens who were engaging in petty crime because of end-of-the-world type fears.”

“Wow.”

“So yeah, Officer Jenny don’t have the money in the bank the right now to send those drones up to look for him twenty four seven, or much at all. Some rogue trainers try to do it, but the ones who claim they’ve seen him up there haven’t been able to prove it. None of that even matters though. One of my sisters knows a thing or two about other dimensions. If he’s really that close with Darkrai, he’s probably just leaving ours whenever he wants.”

You’re getting to the good part now.

“They’re not searching in the right place,” you say.

And stall. You realize that if you could just gain enough control of your dream projection, you might be able to move around the dimension as if it were a map. But how do you work against an environment that’s constantly working against you? It has the massive advantage in the fight.

“Sorry if this is intrusive.” You move forward. “Do you ever see him? In your Nightmares?”

“Fuck no. Hope I never do.” A beat. “No offense.”

You aren’t sure if you’re offended. Yet. They don’t know the Gamzee that you do. Did.

“It’s fine.” You look down when Growlithe decides he’s recovered well enough to stand, yawning himself aware. He then focuses in on Dave, growling defensively.

“I don’t think your Growlithe likes me very much.”

“He doesn’t like anyone but me.”

“That’s kinda cute.”

“You don’t have to live with him. Heel. No, more than that. Thank you.”

You wonder, now, if any of the other leaders _will_ ask you about Gamzee. Even Dave doesn’t sound too fond of him, and you think that they won’t all be this outgoing and forthcoming with you. Some of them might even suspect you of some ulterior allegiance with him.

Maybe you should ask him to help you bridge conversations with them about it. He is related to at least two gym leaders, as well as, you’re now realizing, _the_ Elite Four Champion. That could really be good information, on top of whichever sister knows “a thing or two about other dimensions.” You don’t remember from Kanaya’s numerous expositions about Rose’s family whether or not there are more than four Strilalondes. That would just be excessive.

Dave’s Pokégear blings from the back of his jeans, he checks it for a second.

“Twitter,” he explains. You know nothing about the popular social media site, let alone most others. “I just love that people love this joke now, but no, when I was seventeen I almost got my leader title revoked in disgrace because I got drunk and tweeted ‘rock and ground is the same’ and it offended one Gary Oak.”

“You were getting drunk when you were seventeen?”

“I was also wielding a murderous blade that eats people’s souls with a ribbon.”

You didn’t know they did that, but it figures. Fucking Ghosts. You didn’t even know anybody trained them, due to the sheer creepiness factor of their origins. You might want to scan them with your Dex now, out of some morbid curiosity. Are they eating his soul every time he touches them? Is that why he’s expressionless?

He still hasn’t given you the badge and the prize.

“Fuck, sorry.” You didn’t say that out loud, so you must’ve been giving him a strong ‘get to the point’ look. You aren’t even sure you meant it this time, you were learning a lot. He walks to the back of the platform, at a small table that holds the spoils. Before he does so, he pings your Gear with the notification that he’s sent you $6000. Uh.

“Isn’t this a little much for the first badge?”

“Been giving more than usual lately.” You decline the transfer. “Also never had anybody turn it down, besides Lance the Dragon master, but it’s cool.”

“Not really here for that,” you say. Not only is Alola’s basic income the most generous in the world, even moreso for trolls who are adjusting to a new climate, but you don’t like the idea of receiving money for battles in general. Most Kahunas and Trial leaders in Alola give more symbolic prizes than that.

Speaking of symbolic prizes:

You put your Gear back in your pocket, look up to Dave offering you the shiny Boulder in one hand, the TM for Brutal Swing, Dark type, in the other. You remember reading that, these days, instead of giving form TMs, most Kanto leaders give ones that they think are fitting of the trainer and their team. You can’t tell if this one is a subtle read or a compliment.

This is a pretty rare TM though. You don’t think any of your kids are compatible with it, and their sets are pretty set in stone, but you’ll check. Maybe Cubone, when she gets older.

“Congrats,” Dave says, “first Badge I’ve given in three weeks. My last one was to a kid freshly ten, real talented. His mom told me he has a rare form of apnea that blocks the Nightmares. Call that sleeping on a hater.”

“Surely you can’t be that hard to beat.”

“Well, for first timers I’m supposed to be pretty easy. But it’s not even that. People just aren’t coming in anymore.”

You look around at this giant amphitheater, imagining it packed with trainers and spectators, the way it was the one time you saw it on TV featuring Brock. You wonder what caused the title transfer to someone this young, but then, Kanto did once simultaneously have a gym leader and a Champion who were twelve.

“Why is that? I mean, I figured there would still be flocks of people out at night, same as they would if it were sunny.”

“Side effects, mostly,” Dave says. “Lots of people developing severe agoraphobia over just like. The sense of unknown. Those who haven’t vacated and taken extensive vacations in other regions anyway. Some people think being outdoors at all makes you more susceptible to the latent Dark Void in the atmosphere, as if the walls of their homes are blocking it any better. Don’t blame ‘em for the paranoia though, getting pretty damn agoraphobic here myself. All this even got me thinking about not wanting to be a leader anymore.”

He sure is doing some oversharing. Does he do this with everyone he loses to?

“Thought about working at Olive Garden.”

“What the fuck is an Olive Garden?”

“Bro.” He halfheartedly clutches his chest like he’s been stabbed. “You ain’t lived a day in your life on this Earth ‘til you’ve had these breadsticks. The muses of my soul, the reason these rhymes come out so fuckin’ ill on the regular. Imagine me, table for one, but I look sick, spilling poetry of a freestyle to a basket of glowing dough that they’re legally required to bring me until I stop asking, and/or a team of Nurse Joys has to roll the kid out and pump the heaven from his stomach. _And_ they let Pokémon dine, _and_ they give equal opportunity to Mime collar workers.”

“Mine collar what?”

“Ever since the Mr. Mime formed a union, they’ve been comin’ up roses. They even work at the League now.”

You are perplexed by how much he can talk about nothing. Who is this guy, your dancestor?

“But yeah. Like I said, nobody’s been coming in, the more competitive of first time would-be gym challengers don’t really see the point in collecting Badges when the ultimate reward is so far out of reach. And we don’t know when this is gonna end. I also have some. Political reasons. For wanting to...boycott the man. The man being the government. And also my brother. Goddamn that sounds stupid when I actually say it.”

_That_ was what he thought sounded stupid?

“I was wondering if I could ask a favor," you interrupt.

You see the closest thing to an expression he’s made so far. “Of course.”

“Okay. I’m only gathering all your badges in the hopes that that fucking clown will respond to my request, but. What do you think about talking to the other gym leaders for me a bit? Just to prime them about my coming to them in the first place, to make sure they’re open or whatever, but also because I don’t know how well it’ll come off it’s just me. Since I’m not from here and no one knows me, and those who apparently do just know I’m associated with Gamzee and don’t have the present day context. Plus you have an in with your sisters.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure.”

“You don’t have to show up with me or anything, because I’m sure you have better things to do.” Actually, you think he probably doesn’t. “Maybe just a message to them first or something, putting in a good word.”

“Well. I’d do that, but people like Aradia and Roxy – and Eridan, and Sollux – are pretty much impossible to get a hold of over the Gear these days. It’s also been a while since I’ve seen anybody, since we’ve only had two meetings since the start of this thing, and since Roxy is - doing Roxy shit. Besides Rose I’ve really only talked to Nepeta who’ll be all the help you need ‘cause she’s a sweetheart who’s been actively campaigning for answers to this. But everyone else might take it better to the face as opposed to a vague message for the first time in months. Also certain things I might know to ask for better clarity for you once I’m like. In the conversation and my memory’s jogging.”

You guess that makes sense. Still, you feel weird asking him to come meet up with you every time you’re at a gym.

“I guess if you don’t mind just meeting me there every time. I just don’t know how long it’ll take between each one. Planning on moving as fast as I can before this weekend, but with the unfamiliar terrain and the fact that I could be bombarded by another rambunctious pair of Rocket agents, who knows.”

“Oh, speaking of them. They’ll probably be looking for you the rest of the time you’re here, sorry to say. I don’t know if they got tipped off to your arrival, or how they would’ve even known about it since you seem like a low profile kinda dude, but I wouldn’t put anything past Terezi. Or Vriska.”

That sinks you. They didn’t seem to want anything but to rob you, but if they try to actively stop you from finding Gamzee? If they somehow scoped the fact that you were even in Kanto already, waiting in Route 1 specifically for you? You don’t want to face those trappings again, nor subject Kanaya to it, nor put your Cubone in any certain danger. Without someone stronger who can help fend them off, anyway.

And Dave has greater ability with Pokémon than you initially gave him credit for, you’ll admit that. It can’t be fucking easy wielding murderous blades by hand. He hadn’t had them with him before, and he probably has a host of other powerhouses in his belt.

You don’t know how this will work but you’re propositioning bluntly before you can really think of it:

“Why don’t you just come with me?”

Dave pauses at that. Shit, way to be presumptuous and overbearing, your signature flavor. He’d have to close his gym the entire time. You’re about to take it back, embarrassed, when:

“Yeah, that’ll work. I’m not doing shit anyway, could use a reason to get outside, and it’s about time for my vacation from this joint anyway. The team’s been going stir crazy too. I mean I don’t gotta follow you step by step if you don’t want – “

“I don’t want those Team Rocket fuckers coming anywhere near my Pokémon. Or my friend who's traveling with me who barely battles. Or me. Since you know them and you’re experienced – from what I understand, if they lose the battle they’re forced to offer to potential theft victims, don’t they have to back off?”

“Yup. Not that it stops the more notorious rule breakers, but Terezi is nothing if not a ruthless rule follower. Vriska’s a fucking wild card but most of the time Terezi manages to reel her in before she does any real damage.”

That doesn’t make you feel much better. Still.

“Where are you staying while you’re here?” Dave asks.

You really don’t want to alert him to the location of Kankri’s hive, or acknowledge your relation to Kankri in the slightest. Even though you’re sure he already knows both.

“Pallet Town.”

“Yeah might be easier to get yourself centered to the rest of the region. If you’re planning on taking any sleep breaks or just wanna plan your next moves somewhere safe where Team Vrisrezi wouldn’t know where to look for you. My childhood friends own this quaint as fuck little bed and breakfast just outside Cerulean City. I can hit them up and see if their room’s open, for you and your friend. Probably is ‘cause nobody’s really been in the bed and breakfast mood.”

Would he be staying there also?

You should probably keep your anxiety about his continued presence under wraps, since he’s helping you with this and since _you asked_. Is that what this is, anxiety? Maybe the fact that you’ve been standing here for almost ten minutes talking to him instead of moving on? The fact that he seems to be able to tempt personal anecdotes about Gamzee out of you?

“Okay. Thanks.”

He pulls his Gear out again, typing into it while talking. “I’ll probably lay my head down here in the mornings, but I haven’t seen John and Jade in a minute. They’ve been asking me to come but I’ve been. Stewing in my own bullshit.”

You know what that’s like, for damn sure.

“I also really wanna do something to stop this,” Dave says, putting his Gear back. “I’ve been wondering where all the leaders stand with Gamzee’s actions lately, hell, with the League’s and the government’s actions. We’ve all been disconnected and it wasn’t like this before. We should be working together and taking a stand here, but I understand everyone’s private apathy. Make it public apathy again and maybe we can really make some moves here.”

Before you leave the gym – as you imagine how you’re going to tell Kanaya about the fact that you, _you,_ willingly picked up a hitchhiker – Dave stops at his apartment "to get a few things." The apartment is above the gym, which you have to take an elevator to reach.

Dave says “you can come in if you want,” but you aren’t nearly comfortable enough with him for that. While he’s inside, you text Kanaya only that you’re on your way to the next Route entrance, still unsure how to word your current predicament.

He comes back out on a phone call on his Gear, holding it to his ear, carrying a small backpack. He keeps up with the call for a few minutes while you two walk outside. You’ve always found that rude, but Alolan culture is different, you guess.

When he hangs up, he says, “Sorry. That was my twin.”

You do a double take. “There are two of you?”

“Sort of. Rose Lalonde, ever heard of her?”

You just knew they were siblings, not twins. “Do I. My best friend is fucking obsessed with her. She practically has a shrine in her respiteblock.”

“That’s amazing.”

You meet back up with Kanaya at the designated spot, with Dave in tow.

Dave introduces himself as her new journeying partner, long and rambly. Kanaya smiles, but gives you a look that says ‘Is he going to talk this much the entire time.’

Kanaya skips most of the pleasantries with her own intro, and tells him that you’re planning on going through Mt. Moon from here.

“Did you not wanna just Fly over it? I gotta Hawlucha in the PC. He’d have to take us one by one but even that’d take less time than – ”

“No,” you cut him off, and before Kanaya can offer Tropius and/or explain your fear of heights, “because I would see that as the utter peak of laziness. Unlike Kantonians, we Alolans embrace the feat of a rugged challenge. Going on foot or bicycle, no Flying or public transport, is seen as a right of passage for anyone traveling to the mainland who doesn’t want to look like a chump who just gets things handed to them.”

“Huh. That explains why so many trolls from there hate the bullet train here like it stole something from ‘em.”

Dave then says he’ll take the lead through the Route, and walks up ahead of you and Kanaya for a moment, typing something into his Gear.

Quiet enough that he won’t hear:

“Dave seems to like you,” Kanaya notes.

You feel yourself flush, but deny it verbally.

“Please. He just sees me as a means to the end of the pandemic. We talked about it already and everything. He has a place we can stay in Cerulean to base ourselves from instead of having to come and go from Pallet, some bed and breakfast owned by his childhood friends. He has a good rapport with most of the leaders, except probably Sollux, because who even has a good rapport with him that isn’t also bad. Half of the time.”

“Good one.”

“So this is purely a mutually beneficial arrangement. A business deal. He’s going to help me talk to the other leaders and get information on Gamzee. And help us fend off any potential Rocket stragglers.”

“One of his childhood friends wouldn’t happen to be Jade Harley, would it?”

She always knows more than you. “How do you know that?”

“She’s mentioned him before. She also told me she has a bed and breakfast.”

“How much do you talk to her?”

“Quite a lot, actually. She’s very kind and helpful with breeding.”

“It’s not just because she’s friends with Rose and you’re hoping that’ll get you there by proxy?”

“Jegus no.” Now Kanaya’s flushed. “Besides I’m coming with you to see her. If there even is a ‘there’ to get to which there isn’t it would be because you’re here.”

“Oh, so now you’re sure that you’re coming? I thought you couldn’t decide.”

“I’m this close and you’re an excuse and you make me feel sort of pathetic for not just challenging her gym already myself and getting it over with. Even though I’d lose horribly. So why not.”

“Hey, don’t feel pathetic on my account. I have this human following me suddenly and no idea what to do with him.”

“So you can tell that he likes you.”

“Shut up.”

But you can already tell that there’s a flame underlying this. You could feel it, too strong for you to ignore. Despite the fact that you’re being as abrasive as usual, with no brakes that you’re aware of, Dave is probably also sticking through it because of the heat of your battle, the loaded conversation you had after it. The dude must like being roasted.

You’ve just never done anything like this before. Flirted, even accidentally, with a total stranger who might be so pretty that it makes you uncomfortable. He talks way too much, and you normally don’t like the kinds of humans who don’t take the time to learn about troll culture, when the majority of your education was about theirs. Still. That thing he said about Gamzee talking about you. How much does he know about you?

Not that there’s any point in finding out, at least not one that fits with your main goal. You’ve gone so long without feeling anything even remotely concupiscent – at least, not towards anyone who wasn’t the fictional hero of a romance novel – and you don’t even plan on staying here long. So there’s nothing substantial that could come from such an underlying, organic flame, that you might just stomp out if it burns too bright.

“Don’t say anything weird to him about it.”

“Of course not.”

“And I promise not to tell his sister that you’ve been planning on human marrying her since you were ten.”

“I’d appreciate that yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "rock and ground is the same" tweet is a real tweet lol. I've been trying to find the source for it but I've reblogged like 100 Twitter screenshots since then ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also forgot to mention that I got the idea for Dave's meeting with Doublade from [this beautiful artwork](https://choicescarfsylveon.tumblr.com/post/189539654178/toolassistedspeedrun-awaiting-your-challenge).


	5. The Water Flower of Cerulean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kanaya, Dave and Karkat take on Mt. Moon. Vriska and Terezi have other plans. John and Jade welcome their new guests. Dave and Karkat consider each other further as Rose and Kanaya make a connection.

Before you enter the mouth of Mt. Moon, you feed Growlithe his favorite food in his little travel cup from your belt, the only brand of Pokémon food he’ll accept. Kanaya makes the very important point that you should probably go back to Pallet at some point tonight and get what you’ll need to stay in Cerulean, as well as let Porrim know about your change of plans.

You hate the idea of going backwards on foot, so Kanaya says she’ll Fly back on Tropius once you get settled at the bed and breakfast, get both of your things for you. One of her Carnivine can help her with the bag lifting. You tell her to just make sure it doesn’t puncture your bag.

Kanaya opts to let Porrim know now what the deal is. She steps away to call her, really far away in the tall grass full of passive Oddish and Paras, which means she probably has some opinions about this that she doesn’t want you to hear yet.

Meanwhile, in the quiet, the pain of what Dave said earlier slips into your conscious:

_Gamzee talks about you. Sometimes._

_Too good to be true._

He still describes what you had as good, but he went eight perigees doing _nothing_ to try to appease you before he disappeared, not even a handwritten letter explaining why he had to break up with you, or if this even meant that you were broken up. Was someone not allowing him to contact you? Why? Couldn’t he have just done it in secret somehow, if he really missed you? Couldn’t he have used Slaking to escape?

Maybe he doesn’t miss you. Maybe they’re just memories to him now.

The thought you hate admitting to yourself reemerges: you could’ve gone after him. Porrim knew where he was, you just stopped responding to her messages. You were in shock. A part of you was privately indignant, amidst the pain: he should’ve been coming after _you_ because he’s the one who left.

But it hurt you to think of him like that. It hurt you even more to imagine that whatever was happening to him, it was hurting him. That whoever called him, you’d have no chance against.

That he wouldn’t want to see you when you showed up.

“You alright?”

Dave is looking at you. A cool breeze sweeps through the air, blowing his bangs away from his face, sweeping your shirt fabric against your ribs. You fix what must’ve been the despondent look on your face, and wish Dave here would take off the goddamn pitch black eyewear. You just wanna know how much he looks like Rose. Or something.

“Fine,” you say.

You’re not.

“What did he say to you, exactly?” Do you really want to know that?

Dave doesn’t need any context.

“Do you really wanna know that.”

You’re offended that he’s correctly guessed your internal doubt.

“I’m fucking asking, aren’t I? Was what he said bad?”

“No. Not at all.”

He’s right, that does make you feel worse. You aren’t ready for this conversation.

“Look,” Dave says. “I wouldn’t worry about it honestly. He was always kinda off and it just got gradually more confusing to figure out what he was talking about. He thought rainbows were tangible enough to walk on some days, thought the sky was purple others. Sometimes he didn’t even know what year it was. Always a good fucking trainer though, somehow. I’m sure he must not’ve been so bad of a dude before, if he was able to have a morail for twenty two years.”

God, he even knows that you were always there.

“And it was just one conversation I personally had with him about it,” Dave goes on. “Spur of the moment and a lot of nonlinear information that I didn’t really know what to do with. Only time he ever told me anything from his past. Other than that he just kinda did his own thing with the church. Got along with Roxy for a minute but she stopped hanging out with him. After like a month or two I wanna say. She just kinda tries to make everyone feel welcome no matter who they are.”

That last part does touch you. That at least one person was trying to be good to him. But everything else adds both further frustration and some clarity. Maybe he only remembered you sometimes, not enough to know how to get in touch with his former address, or maybe he was afraid you’d be angry.

Something’s just going on with his state of psychosis. If that package he got in the mail told him he had to gradually stop the sopor, the withdrawal effects could be worse than even you could’ve expected. Maybe whoever that was decided not to ween him, just cut him off. That whole time, and you never saw what withdrawal would look like. As far back as you can remember, he was eating the stuff. The reasons why were complicated, but you let him.

“You wouldn’t happen to know if he was still getting high, would you?”

“Smoked a shit ton of weed and there was this weird rumor that he tried to eat sopor slime, but Roxy said the religious fools around him didn’t take too well to that. Other than that I don’t know.”

You’re warmed a touch to hear him call them fools.

“What’s the deal with the Subjuggulators and Team Rocket?”

Dave shrugs. “You gotta ask Roxy about all that. Rose said she’ll try to get a hold of her for you and good luck getting a straight answer if you ask her. I love her but ain’t nothing straight about her. It’s like a family fuckin’ trait.”

You aren’t sure if he means straightforward or if he’s referencing the humans’ sexuality division thing. Though it isn’t nearly as much as a thing as it used to be, thankfully. Most have zero qualms living openly.

You guess Dave is human gay? Or what they call bisexual, which to you is just normal.

“All I know is people who believe blindly in the total good of an organization or a god or even those mythical Pokémon worshippers or whatever all look fuckin’ the same to me. The church ain’t ever really out there doing crime on people like that, not if they’re pureblood church folks. But there’s Rocket Subjuggulators.”

You make a face at that.

“Yeah they’re as unbearable as they sound."

Kanaya returns from her phone call.

“All set,” she says. “Porrim wishes us good luck and no hard feelings. I will have to return eventually to use her Ditto and her equipment when Jade’s is unavailable at the babysitting offices. But I can figure out when and everything later.”

You suddenly feel guilty for bringing her here, even though she mostly came of her own volition. Sometimes you don’t know if you’ve always earned her loyalty, but still, it persists.

> Enter Mt. Moon

Your Pokégear map informs you that the quickest route through the center should take just under an hour. There are three different paths you can choose from, and the quickest seems to be the most narrow, but it’s probably better than having to travel the perimeters for the extra half hour.

It’s dark as hell in here, though; you aren’t afraid of the dark, one of the few things you aren’t, but it’s unnerving in a vast mountain you’ve never experienced. Kanaya’s glow only offers marginal help in seeing your surroundings. Luckily, Dave has a notable HM slave on hand.

Smeargle uses Flash – though you note this is a different Smeargle than the shiny one he used prior – immediately lighting the entrance cave you’re in. You can see three forks up ahead, each leading to the narrow tunnels.

“Anything in here that’s particularly concerning that we should know about?” you ask Dave, who returns the Smeargle.

“Honestly haven’t even been in here in years. Mostly just the Zubats and their incoherent goddamn shrieking.” One cries out, punctuating his statement, buzzing furiously in your head in the aftershocks. “It’s said if you say their name three times in a row they rush you in packs.”

“Is that true,” Kanaya says.

“Well I ain’t fucking tried it just in case.”

The chorus of Zubats are already on your nerves, but the first leg of your journey is unambiguous. Dave has re-equipped Klinklang and the leash, which you’ve been meaning to ask him about, and the three of you and Growlithe follow the winding tunnel. Dave talks to Kanaya about Olive Garden in gross detail for far too long, and she’s pretending to be too polite to stop him.

You take a quick break when you enter the next large clearing, Smeargle having to Flash it again. You watch as Klinklang spins one of its gears behind Dave, feel tension in your chest. So that’s why you felt very similar to this when you saw them in Viridian. You remember that the Klang line is tuned in to the emotions of those they’re close with.

Why yours though? Does Kanaya feel it too?

“Why do you wear the leash?”

Klinklang’s gear spins a little faster at your acknowledgment.

“Inside joke. We found each other when I got lost one day as a kid and I may’ve gotten lost a few other times since then. It’s more for them than it is for me at this point.”

You raise a brow. “You’re supposed to be the expert leading us here, and you chronically get lost?”

“Never said I was some type of expert, there’s a reason I ain’t been in here since - “

Suddenly, a thunderous crash of rocks to your left, as a massive Onix slinks its way out of one of the cave walls, landing just yards away from you, as the tension in your chest increases tenfold.

“No, no, no,” Dave is saying.

Six more Onix emerge from the walls, coiling near each other, all of them glaring at your party with suspicion.

“You did not warn us about any Onix,” Kanaya notes to Dave.

“They usually fuckin’ sleep at night but I guess not anymore.”

Growlithe is already fed up with their presence, shooting a wall of flame, which sends one of them angrily rushing towards you.

All of you scatter in just enough time that the fall of its body doesn’t crush you, leaving deep imprints in the earth as it slinks back up. Another starts hurling rocks your way, which Klinklang tries its best to fling its gears at to block.

But you have the solve. You release Feraligatr, who starts Hydro Pumping with no abandon, washing all of the Onix back and knocking them out swiftly.

“That thing is a monster,” Dave says.

“Thanks.”

You return Feraligatr and walk through another narrow tunnel, this one significantly longer and rockier, almost making you feel claustrophobic. When you get to the end of it, you find that you’re on some sort of natural balcony, overlooking a steep cliff drop and a third and a final open clearing, in which is none other than your Team Rocket agents, plus company.

Terezi and Salamence stand near a pile of strange black equipment, Vriska and Garchomp addressing two human Rockets. They have dozens of Clefairy rounded up tightly with rope, two Koffing floating guard around them.

“Oh god,” Kanaya groans, “what are they doing with them?”

“Beats me,” Dave says, “first thing you don’t do with Rocket is try to figure out why they’re causing pandemonium ‘cause half the time they don’t even know.”

“Has no one else seen this and tried to do anything?” Kanaya says. “Are we the only ones here?”

“Prob’ly not, but a lotta people see them do shit like this and just avoid the whole tango directly. Targeting wild Pokémon is typical Rocket behavior when they don’t got anyone to rob, though they didn’t used to be this blatant about it. They get away with more now ‘cause they’re seen less. They can’t be disbanded ‘cause they’re registered as a research organization and they are they just do pretty fucked up research. So all you can do is report them and hope your local Jennies get there in time, or trust the rogue investigators.

“You can distract them pretty easy with a battle ultimatum but like half of ‘em take the risk and just Teleport via Abra. Couldn’t be me, last time I traveled via Abra I lost my underwear _underneath my clothes,_ my glasses and my wallet.”

“We can’t just let them do that.” Kanaya knows this, but you see her eyeing the massive Garchomp the same way you did.

“It’s not - “ You sigh, thinking about how little you’d like to feel another Earthquake. “This isn’t what we came through here for. I know it’s wrong to look at the heinous thing being done and turn a blind eye to the blind woman just casually producing a line of Clefairy coats or whatever this is, but I don’t want any more fucking trouble, and I certainly don’t want them coming anywhere fucking near Cubone.”

Dave looks at your belt.

“Also that seems to be our only way out,” Kanaya says.

“There’s a secret crawl space way we could take if y’all don’t mind a lil’ more Onix traffic - “

“Um, fuck no?” you say. “We just almost d- ”

But you’re cut off as Vriska suddenly raises her voice, screaming into a walkie:

“Two grand?! Did you not hear the count I just gave you? We just sat here and let them walk into the moonstone trap, which I built by hand by the way, and you expect us to not get paid for slaaaaving away at this pointless grub work?”

Terezi walks away from the lasso, licking the screen of her Gear, and closer to the pile of strange black equipment, her back to you. One of the human grunts’ Koffing releases a sludge over the Clefairy, coating them in their weakness.

Growlithe snarls quietly, and you suddenly borrow the same hatred.

“Fuck it.” You look at Dave. “Your Krokorok can blow the dust around long enough for us to do what we need to do?”

He releases her first before agreeing. “What are you - “

“Kanaya?”

“Yes.”

Two Alolan Chansey appear by her side. These are the battle two, who both know Power Swap. Switching Garchomp’s extremely high Attack with its Special Attack will hopefully cripple it some.

“Growlithe, go.”

Growlithe shoots a targeted bomb of flame between Vriska and Terezi, it melts and steams against the rock behind them as it slides down. They turn to look at the source in perfect sync.

> Fire Spin

It encases Vrisrezi in one wheel and the two humans in another. Garchomp immediately starts running towards you, but Krokorok’s Sandstorm-Whirlwind knocks it back. One Alolan Chansey uses Power Swap on Garchomp, as you sling Growlithe over your back and slide down the cliff wall.

This reminds you of training together. That’s what you focus on, ignore the environment, just you and Growlithe.

You let him down, wind and sand still blowing, hard to see – Garchomp is back up, disoriented but sees you, as does the giant Salamence, blowing the sand up and out of the field with its wings. You get knocked off your feet to see Growlithe tearing off the ropes of the Clefairy – they scatter into the cliffs – and quickly KO-ing Koffing with Flamethrower, just as the Salamence lands in front of you.

Its about to Dragon Pulse you, blue glow in its mouth, when two swords clip it – Doublade – and Growlithe double teams with Crunch. You turn and see Dave sliding down the cliff followed by Krokorok, without Klinklang.

Garchomp rushes towards you again, but Krokorok, quickly camouflaging in dirt, sneaks up and Crunches it aside. The Fire Spins release enough that Vriska and Terezi break through. The humans are gone.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Vriska snarls at you.

“Thought I would get in your way the same way you got in mine!”

Her eight eyes lock in on Garchomp, struggling with Krokorok in a dust cloud, as Growlithe runs back to you and Dave shows up at your side. The Alolan Chansey bounce down onto the field, sending Heal Pulses at Krokork and Growlithe, while Kanaya hangs back in the tunnel mouth.

Vriska starts to yell again. “Do you have any idea how much – “

But Growlithe Fire Spins Terezi and Vriska off again, and just as Krokorok lands another Crunch, Dave flings Doublade one more time to finally KO Garchomp. Another Heal Pulse to Krokorok, and it has the strength to meet Salamence’s Double-Edge with Assurance, knocking it out too.

You can hear the agents arguing, then Terezi, in a true ‘fuck it’ moment, jumps out through her surrounding flames, her uniform only marginally burned, and bluebloods and higher have tough, resistant skin. She’s sweating buckets, and Vriska follows her out, uniform even less affected by the burn.

You’re about to say something defiant, when Terezi says to her partner, solemn,

“We should go.”

“No! I wanna make them pay for what they did.”

“Seriously, Vriska, come on.” She holds up the Gear she’d been licking. “You know who is calling us.”

That seems to stiffen Vriska’s nerves, and they both recall their fainted Pokémon.

“You _are_ gonna pay for this,” Vriska threatens, as Terezi collects the black equipment into a bag. Vriska points at you specifically. “Dirty fucking mutant.”

When they’re gone, Dave exhales in relief. He drops Doublade from his hands, but they float beside him instead, staring at you. It freaks you out that they even have eyes.

_Dirty fucking mutant._

No one’s ever called you on it like that before. You know very well of the Sufferer’s circumstances, of the fact that if you’d been born on Alternia, you would’ve been disemboweled on sight.

But no one on this planet has ever disparaged you for your color, quite the fucking opposite, so you don’t know why that hurts. What one stuck up blueblood who’s clearly trying to recreate some sense of hierarchy in her own mind thinks.

You turn when you hear Kanaya descending the cliff, coming to meet you.

“We should let them get ahead of us for a while first,” she advises.

> Enter Cerulean City

After passing by the infamous Cerulean Cave, you enter the high-end city itself. This the first place you’ve seen with anything resembling a skyscraper, though there’s only one, and the centerpiece is clearly Rose’s massive marble gym, which you can see several blocks north.

Tall foliage surrounds the outskirts, squaring the city within, and further off, you can see the entrances to the Routes leading to Vermillion and Saffron. You feel like you’ve finally arrived in Kanto proper.

Your party first takes a visit to the Pokémon center, to help your friends recover from the informal battle. This is the most crowded a place you’ve seen thus far, about thirty humans and their Pokémon in the adjoining hospital waiting room.

You can’t help but look over them as you wait for Nurse Joy to finish your order on the other side of the counter. Several of the Pokémon sitting with their trainers are asleep, foreboding dream bubbles above them. You recognize the Youngster from Route 1 with his Rattata, crying as he holds it through its Nightmares.

You wonder why yours haven’t had any yet, if they will. What you’ll do.

Nurse Joy has to get your attention when she’s finished. They really do look identical no matter the region. It’d freak you out a bit if they weren’t all universal sweethearts.

“Thank you for waiting. Your Pokémon are fully healed. We hope to see you again!”

You rejoin Kanaya and Dave where they wait in the lobby. Kanaya is staring over at the waiting room like you were, and you realize that some of the humans are staring back. They’ve probably never seen a Rainbow Drinker that wasn’t a fictional representation in a troll movie.

“John and Jade are ready for y’all,” Dave announces.

You start to walk for the doors, but Kanaya stops when she finds an ad for Rose on the bulletin board beside them.

**Come and Challenge the Water Flower of Cerulean City!**

_The City is proud to represent and celebrate the power and beauty of our Rose Lalonde. Witness her variable skillset and the stunning waterfalls of the gym around her._

_Hours: 8 p.m. - 5 a.m., Friday – Tuesday_

_Observation decks closed until further notice_

_Send a Battle Request through your Pokégear tonight!_

“My ad ain’t nearly as celebratory,” Dave notes.

“Shit, today’s Wednesday, right?” you say. "I have to wait two days to challenge her?"

“Nah. I got you.”

You wait for an actual explanation.

“I told her you were in a hurry and lightly mentioned you trying to get to Gamzee. She’ll open it for you whenever you’re good for it.”

You and Kanaya follow Dave out of the center and north to Route 24, which as you noticed on your map, leads to a dead end. You trek around the tall grass until you reach Route 25, which consists of a topiary maze. The end of the maze allows you to come upon Jade and John’s sprawling property.

“I’m gonna go back to Pallet now,” Kanaya says, before you go in.

You wonder why she traveled the Route with you, why she even did Mt. Moon in the first place when she’s not the one afraid of flight.

“You sure you don’t need any help?” you say.

“I’ll be fine.” She glances at Dave for a moment, then you, then releases Tropius, mounting and Flying.

> Enter the sprawling property

You are clotheslined by a rainforest as you step through the open doors. There are exotic plants as far as the eye can see, ranging from psychadelic floral arrangements to tropical fronds to fruits and vegetables. Tall windows blanket the back walls and allow moonlight to flood in with the lamps above.

An Altaria is perched on the wooden railings of a balcony, which looks to be the border of a treehouse-style respiteblock. Bedroom. A Stoutland trots past a winding staircase, beside which you can see a meal block and long table, and enters a hallway. Dave’s childhood friends return from the hall with the Stoutland, each with black, scruffy hair, wearing glasses and giant matching grins.

If Dave is expressionless, John and Jade are the polar opposite. They tackle Dave in a hug, John at the back and Jade the front, looping her legs around Dave’s waist.

“Took you long enough to get your ass out of bed and come over!” John says.

Jade climbs down her friend and takes off his shades.

“Well hello, Dave! Nice to meet you!”

“Hey.”

You freeze when you catch that Dave’s eyes are bright red.

Jade hands Dave his shades back, which he quickly re-equips. She looks at you then, sombering a touch. “Who is our other guest?”

“Karkat,” Dave answers. “He’s - “ You wonder if he should just outright tell them the whole deal, the Gamzee thing. “New to Kanto. Privately investigating the pandemic.”

John comes over and holds out his hand for you to shake. You’ve never been the handshake type. Germs. Plus people get thrown by how hot your hands are.

You leave him hanging, but he’s no less smiley. Growlithe is having a grumbling fit at his offer, but he doesn’t seem to notice that either.

“I am John, and this is my sister Jade.”

Jade comes over too, and you could swear she just sniffed you.

“Wow, your eyes are really red!”

“Your eyes are really green!”

“Hmm,” Jade says, adjusting her giant spectacles. “Oh, you _must_ be the other Kankri.”

“Jegus fuck.”

“Oh yeah,” John agrees, “you do look a lot like him!”

“Hey now peppy and peppier,” Dave says, “lets not bombard your future guest with uncomfortable observations.”

“He’s not uncomfortable,” John says. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“I am now.”

“Where’s Kanaya?” Jade asks Dave.

“Flew back to Pallet to get some things. She’s on her way.”

“Here, let me show you the room,” John says to you. “Can I take your bag, or your – heavy fanny pack looking thing?”

When he reaches towards you again, Growlithe barks, and he and Jade both jump.

“Well he’s a little rude, isn’t he?” Jade coos. “Are you a rude boy? Who’s a rude boy?”

“Don’t mind him,” you tell John only. “It’s strapped pretty tight around my waist here, so I got it. Thanks. Growlithe, back the fuck up, please. I’m asking nicely.”

John leads you up the staircase to the very spacious guest room. A massive recuperacoon and even bigger bed, several ornate rugs, two desks with fancy wicker chairs, a thick wooden roundtable with two chairs. Wisteria lines the rafters of the roof, hanging down just enough that you can smell their sweetness.

“The bathroom – sorry, the ablution block – is just down the hall to the left. Anything in the ki – meal block – is yours if you want it, we have grub stuff too. Make yourself at home – hive – feel free to open the windows – is there a troll English word for windows?”

“I get it, you don’t have to translate.”

“Oh. Okay, I was just trying to be hospitable.”

He seems, like. Too nice. So much so that you try not to be any more contrary.

“Jade and I are waiting for the oven to finish dinner. Lunch. God, all this stuff makes it so hard to figure out what to call your meals. So how do you know Dave? He told Jade what was going on, not me, and she’s been _so_ busy playing poker with Aipom that she couldn’t just tell me.”

“Uh.” You just met him about two hours ago? He’s helping you try to pull the reigns in on your unhinged morail? “You should probably let him tell you.”

John raises his brows and smirks, and you know that look. Great, now he thinks something saucy is happening.

“I will then.” John trots back down the hallway.

You sigh, gazing around the empty, quiet room. This place is amazing, objectively, but you think you’re starting to feel homesick. You’re tempted to check out the security system visuals on your hive, but instead you

> Look out the window

The outskirts of Cerulean are beautiful. Thick forest surrounds you on all sides of this view, the river from the moat of the Cave wrapping around as far as the eye can see. A Seaking jumps from the water and splashes back in. You remember reading that there’s an abandoned power plant where the river ends. You wonder if such a large, empty expanse wouldn’t also be a perfect base for Team Rocket.

You should try to stop thinking about them.

Closing the door to the room, you release the rest of your team, including Cubone. While Growlithe and Pyukumuku react to Feraligatr with their usual glee, Cubone holds back, sitting in place with her bone. She examines it like she’s reading something in its porous structure, then sings a little note at it.

You approach her quietly, kneel down before her. She makes another noise, but continues focusing on the bone.

“Hey. Are you okay? I know we’ve been traveling a lot tonight, and I’m sorry you couldn’t help us with that scene earlier.” You don’t even know that she would’ve wanted to, but when she hesitates to join them like this, you can tell that she senses she’s being left out.

The Eviolite doesn’t seem to be helping her feel better. Maybe it takes some time to adjust to the recipient. She ignites both ends of the bone in her hands, perking up a bit at the licks of flame.

“Careful,” you tell her. “We can’t burn anything in here.”

She puts the flames out, puts the bone down.

“No, sorry, you can play,” you tell her. She sings a minor note, leaving the bone. “You just know how Growlithe gets when he sees you playing with fire, then it’s like he wants to do it too and he still doesn’t grasp the scope of his power when he’s not in a battle, and these really nice humans are letting us stay here, so we just have to be careful.”

She barely moves. Only to swing her tail around, inspect it carefully.

The door suddenly opens behind you.

“Karkat?” Jade’s voice.

Your back is to the door, so in a quick moment of panic, you grab Cubone and tuck her under your shirt. It’s uncomfortable having to squat and do it, but she fits, thank god for the extra fabric. What kind of host doesn’t knock before entering?

“Wow, what a beautiful Feraligatr. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one that big.”

“Thanks.”

You glance over your shoulder at Jade, notice that her Stoutland is standing behind her in the doorway. Cubone is burrowing itself against your chest, warmth combining with yours. You realize it looks like the back of your shirt is moving.

Jade pauses, noticing. “Just came to see if you were settling in.”

“Everything’s good.”

She purses her lips, like she’s going to say something, then rethinks it.

“So what do you think you have on the pandemic? I’m certainly interested in hearing more outsider perspectives on this mess! You know, you’re a really special case coming _in here_ instead of leaving out of it.”

“I’m uh – “ Cubone heats its skin suddenly, startling you. “It’s a really long fucking story. I can explain it later when I’m not so. Jet lagged.” You came on a boat, days ago. “And once I chug another two energy drinks.”

You’re not even remotely tired yet, but it’s about time for your next dose. Kanaya should be arriving with the ones in your bag here soon. And you don’t think you’ll tell John or Jade what you’re doing here. Whether or not Dave decides to tell them eventually – or Rose, once she meets you – you guess that’s up to them.

Jade pauses again.

“Okay. Well, John’ll be up to get you for dinner!”

She leaves the door open when she and Stoutland go.

You exhale heavily. Cubone isn’t even trying to struggle to get out from your cover, and with how distant you’ve felt from her lately, you’ll take it. You decide to leave her inside, unfastening the lowest buttons and tying the shirt ends in a knot to secure her burrow.

You get up and close the door again. Protecting her existence here may be harder than you thought.

> Be Dave

Jade and John’s Uncle Bill is the inventor of the Pokémon Storage System, and used to live in this house, which may be your favorite piece of real estate in all the land. It’s currently built like every kid’s dream treehouse, including the kids at heart. When Bill moved to Johto, John and his Dad came to live here from Saffron, made some sick renovations.

When Jade’s Grandpa died at his island home on the Seafoam Islands, she came to live with the rest of her family. She’d been studying under him there fastidiously, opting to be homeschooled, which she continued even in Cerulean. Dad moved out to give his kids the space when they were eighteen, which was when they decided to turn their extra room into a two occupancy stay to make some extra cash.

Though no foul play was found in the autopsy, Jade thinks Grandpa was murdered. She can’t prove it, but she thinks someone (a troll) involved with Team Rocket (or worse) killed Grandpa in contempt. Over what exactly, she still isn’t sure, but her running theory is that it had something to do with his tech manufacturing company Skaianet, which supplied important parts around the world.

John thinks that’s ridiculous, that anyone would hate a simple adventuring business man that much. It’s a point of contention between them often.

While John takes a quick ride on Altaria outside to give her some air, you wait in the main room for Jade to come back downstairs, swaying lightly on one of the swings hanging long from the ceiling. When she does, she has that look on her face: scrunched up nose, lips pursed, squinted eyes, like she’s deep in contemplation and you’re going to get an earfull of it.

She comes up to your swing and grips the ropes, shifting you gently side to side.

“I don’t trust your friend,” she tells you.

You figured. She’s normally really friendly, but she didn’t show her usual when he arrived.

If Jade, and Stoutland, don’t trust someone, they’re usually right.

“’kay. Why.”

“I don’t know.”

You chuckle, and she kicks your shin, which would’ve hurt if she wasn’t perpetually barefoot.

“But I’m gonna figure it out.”

“Maybe he’s not that bad a guy?”

She gestures to Stoutland, who’s curled up on a rug in front of the TV.

“He agrees with me.”

“To be fair, you said he didn’t trust me for like two years and I gave you the damn thing.” You then say to the dog, who you know is listening, “I say that with all the love left in my withering soul.”

“Oh please, you’re not _withering._ ” She examines you thoroughly. “But you are getting pretty skinny, Dave. Is everything okay? How are you holding up?”

You shrug. “Tormented by the dark recesses of my childhood every other night, but other than that I’m cool I guess. Bored as hell but who isn’t right now.”

“Right? I miss the fucking sun _so much_. Look at me, I’m so pale!”

“You’re darker than me.”

“Not for long!”

She stops swinging you suddenly, pulls you by a shirt sleeve onto your feet.

“Oh, shit, Dave! I know what’s throwing me off!”

She pauses to look at the whole of your shirt.

“You really wear this thing everyday. What are you, the protagonist of a cartoon?”

“Excuse me I’ll have you know I have like twenty different white t-shirts and I don’t appreciate this blatant failure to recognize the subtleties of their memeology, goddamn get it together Jade.”

“Okay enough. C’mon, let’s go.”

She takes you outside to the backyard, to reach the rickety platform elevator that leads to the basement. She has to manually rope you two down. Despite the lack of sophistication in the elevation, the basement is decked out in sparkling white lab equipment, bright linoleum walls and floors to match.

“That symbol,” she begins, “on the leg of his Feraligatr?”

She claps her hands to turn the lights off.

She pulls up a hologram for you on her watch, projects its colorful text all over the wall in front of you. Jade, like Rose, is a vicious hand note taker. Unidentifiable chicken scratch that when translated turns out to be complex math equations, thorough historical research on Pokémon and all others, and your personal favorite, Squiddles fanfiction.

This particular slide contains her ongoing research on trolls. She zooms in on a clip she’s drawn of that symbol, and some other variations.

“A few trolls with signs like these would watch Grandpa’s house from the next island over. Only for like _one day_ every couple weeks, and I would tell Grandpa I could see them from the windows, and even _outside_ when I started sneaking out, but he would always tell me that they were just lost, even though it was always the same ones. I think.”

“You think?”

“I’m pretty sure. No, I know I’m sure.”

Your heart hurts a bit, remembering her when you finally met her in person. She was thirteen years old, her favorite person in the world had just passed on, and she felt like a huge part of her life had just ended. John had told you that she would need a lot of good times and cheering up, which you and Rose obliged.

You don’t blame her at all for wanting to know what happened. Even if it was a suicide, which you yourself can’t possibly know, that’s a horrible way to think of a lost loved one if you can’t be sure it’s true. Trust you, you know.

But she hasn’t talked to you about this in a while. You watch as her green eyes sparkle under the hologram she’s changed her watch to project:

Replicas of the Alternian solar system, to the best knowledge of astrologers who’ve studied the planet’s prior location from very, very far, as well as the Dolorosa’s notes and illustrations. She zooms in on clusters of stars, letting the data calibrate and show her their coordinates, before zooming in further on meticulous detail.

Here she is showing you the inside of the humans’ best guess as to an intergalactic Fleet facility. A massive red cruise liner of a ship floats in the space, with what looks to be a white fork imprinted on both sides.

“This.” She pulls a laser pointer out of her tangled hair, dangling with Squiddles charms, circles the fork with the lime light. “Was one of the signs of The Condesce.”

“Evil fish Hitler.”

“Feferi says she was worse.”

As if Jade wasn’t dope enough as it is, she’s also just casually best friends with _the_ Troll Governess.

“The Indigos worked for her conquests in high positions, often as spies. Even Feferi thought the parallels were strange, between those particular signs I’m pretty sure I know I saw and why they’d want something to do with Grandpa’s tech, and she has a vested interest in dismantling criminal Teams around the world too. Sadly she won’t leave Alola for any more than a day.”

“Can’t really blame her, looks like a fucking...wait for it…”

“Paradise,” you say simultaneously.

“So you think that because these trolls’ ancestors may’ve worked for the Condesce, that...has something to do with Karkat? ‘Cause I’ono if you know this but fish Hitler’s perma-dead, and we got bigger more alive fish on our hands.”

She sighs, annoyed at your reluctance to believe her a hundred percent.

“It’s just _weird,_ that’s all. And your hitchhiker really seems like he’s got a stick up his ass.”

“Well yeah I can’t really rule that out. And technically I’m the hitchhiker.”

“I mean, Kanaya does a little bit too, but at least it’s like. A small stick that probably still smells good.”

She clicks a button on her watch, and the glowing lights are sucked back into its tiny frame. You gotta admit, the after effects are fucking with you. This is why you wear shades around these people. She claps the lights back on.

“So are you actually gonna tell me what you’re doing with this guy?” Jade says. “’Cause I know you, and you’re really nice to your challengers, but you don’t just follow them around for their whole badge challenge because they’re new to the region, even if he knows something we don’t about Nightmares. What even is it that he knows?” She gasps. “Oh my god, do you think he’s hot?”

“Jesus Jade.”

“You totally do. Figures since you’ve had such a raging boner for Kankri for so long.”

“Fuck that, I knew you had your head in the clouds but I didn’t know you were delusional.”

“You wouldn’t’ve dedicated a blog to him for _years_ if you didn’t think he was a little bit, c’mon! And yes, I know it was a ‘troll blog,’ you’re still not gonna convince me.”

“Okay.”

Jade comes closer to you, touches your forearm, her gaze serious. You’re perpetually touch starved, and John and Jade know this. But coming from Jade alone, it hits a little different. This feels more intimate than her wrapping herself around you during her greeting.

Just as you started finally dating Terezi, when you were twenty, that was when Jade decided to tell you that she’d had feelings for you since you were fourteen. You couldn’t have just given up on what you had with Terezi though, not so soon. But you’re pretty sure Jade’s feelings for you left as soon as you made that choice.

It was awkward for about a year. Then you both got over it, because that’s what chosen family does.

“If you’re really not gonna tell me what he’s doing here, I guess that’s fine,” Jade tells you, squeezing your arm. “Just be careful out there investigating, okay? I know I get overprotective sometimes, I just really love you.”

You realize you haven’t said it to each other in a while.

“I love you too.”

When you re-enter the main room, John is showing Kanaya the floral waterfalls, as you notice she’s switched her cool inner lights off and left hers and Karkat’s luggage by the doors. Jade joins them and takes over explanations “as the expert here,” excited to finally show Kanaya around. “I thought you were never coming to see me here! Don’t worry, Rose is around, but she isn’t as intimidating as she seems.”

You go to grab the bags – the one that you know is Karkat’s, same pattern from his shirt, is heavy as fuck – upstairs and down the hall to the guest room. You knock on the door, receiving the okay to find Karkat settling in.

Feraligatr sleeps next to the open window – no Nightmare bubbles – as Growlithe entertains a shiny Pyukumuku by rolling it around in a circle on the floor. You wish this puppy didn’t hate you, that’s really fucking cute. You drop the bags by the door.

Growlithe seems not to mind your presence now, and neither does Karkat. He’s sitting in one of the chairs at the table, reading a book with Alternian on the cover. Two muscular, shirtless trolls hold each other under the title. You know what that is.

“Troll smut?”

He closes it promptly. You don’t know why you thought he’d be willing to share the details, read it to you out loud or something.

“Tell Jade she needs to knock first if she’s gonna come in here.”

“Oh.” Did she catch him changing or something? You know she would’ve felt bad about that. “Yeah, sorry about that. She can be nosy when she wants to.”

Karkat takes a swig of his energy drink, and when he stands away from the table, you realize he has _something_ tied up in his shirt.

“Please don’t ask what this is,” he says, gesturing to the mound, and he suddenly looks worried. “I just need you to turn around for a second, okay? _Don’t_ look.”

“Got you.” You turn. Is he taking his shirt off?

You hear fabric ruffling, and then, a hollow cry you recognize. Cubone. Why is he hiding it? Is it painfully shy or something?

“I’m sorry, just for a little again, okay?” He’s not talking to you. You then hear the sound of a ball opening and closing.

He tells you you can turn around, and he’s blushing red. Brighter than you’ve ever seen a troll’s skin fill.

“Did Jade say something to you or something?”

Karkat squints, his redness starting to fade. “About what?”

He can probably tell, but you decide not to reveal that she doesn’t trust him.

“I’ll answer that for you,” he says. “She obviously doesn’t trust me. She doesn’t know anything about me, as far as I know, so if it’s just by sheer association with you – I just got some kind of weird protective ex vibe from it.”

Did he?

You explain as briefly as you can.

“She’s not an ex but protective regardless.”

“Oh.”

You wonder if he wants to know how single you are currently. You’ve never been so single in your life. That’s probably not why he was asking.

> Be Karkat, contemplate why you were asking

You were asking because, as fate would have it, the scene in your “troll smut” that you’d started reading had an encounter that went alarmingly like yours and Jade’s. In which the hero and the love interest’s ex had an awkward, charged exchange, wherein the meaning of the tussle of words wasn’t spoken, but understood.

You were also asking because, in the scene before it, the hero and the love interest had thoroughly illustrated their passion, and now Dave is standing here and this energy is even more charged. Something changed when you battled Rocket again, more intense this time, and the whole thing had happened so fast you hadn’t even processed it. Until you started processing it the further the smut scene went, realizing that he’d jumped down to the ring with no sign of fear, the same way the hero fought in the war alongside his lover.

You wouldn’t know the first thing about a human’s body, what to do, and you are _not_ considering Dave’s body, whatsoever, in the slightest.

John comes to knock on the door, invite you to dinner.

You eat the slow roasted meat and fresh vegetables like you haven’t eaten in three nights, as you hardly have. You realize you’re finishing faster than everyone else and slow your roll, although you don’t feel much like joining the conversation. Luckily, everyone else is talking enough that you have an excuse to stay quiet.

“Oh!” John stands abruptly, looking at his Pokégear. “Rose is here.”

Kanaya stands abruptly too, and everyone else turns to look at her. You and Dave snort in tandem as Jade tells her, “I told you it’s gonna be fine, she’s really chill, I promise.” Kanaya sits back down, blush covering her face.

John opens the door and Rose sweeps in. She looks exactly like she does in photographs – better, even – which isn’t really fair. You don’t know what’s swimming in this gene pool, but no wonder they’re all gym leaders. Their looks probably do a good amount of intimidating.

“Karkat, Kanaya, Rose,” John says for you.

Rose waves, looks at you first, then at Kanaya, a beat longer than she does you.

She seamlessly enters the conversation with her friends, now Kanaya is just as quiet as you. During downbeats you notice Dave watching you across the table. Not that you can even see his direct line of vision, but he’s sitting right in front of you, so if he’s not looking at them and facing your way, well. Maybe that’s why he’s always wearing them, he’s got a persistent staring problem he doesn’t want to acknowledge.

Why would he be embarrassed about having red eyes? His other friends seem to have abnormally neon irises too. It’s not like he’s you, and even you are doing away with your typical massive straw hat to shadow them, because it looks fucking stupid to wear it at night.

“So, Karkat,” Rose says to you, tipping her water glass. Her eyes shine violet. “I hear I’m your next challenger.”

You glance at Dave first. Pointless, ‘cause it’s not like you can ask him how much he told her, not with Jade the hound sniffing your syllables.

“Yeah, that would be you,” you tell Rose. “Kanto doesn’t seem to be doing the themed gym thing anymore, so I suspect you’re not a Water specialist like Misty?”

“Strategy talk at the dinner table? With my opponent?” She dons a mock look of scandal. “It’s more likely than you think.”

“Rose uses all kinds but she _really_ likes Psychics,” John supplies, then yelps a bit when Rose obviously kicks him under the table.

Dave finishes his plate first, which you tell yourself gives you permission to scarf down the rest of yours. John gets up to get your plates from you while Jade and Rose discuss Jade’s Whimsicott, Kanaya staring with far too much interest at the grub juice in her glass.

When everyone’s finished, you all move to the couches around the TV. You planned on excusing yourself upstairs as soon as you were done, but you know that in both your culture and theirs, that would show an ungrateful face.

You sit as far away as possible from Dave on the loveseat you share, watching as the Stoutland sleeps on the rug between you all with no Nightmares.

“Karkat.”

Dave says it, and you look up to find that everyone’s looking at you.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to battle tonight,” Rose is saying. “In a few hours, if you don’t mind, I’ve got something I’d like to try first.”

Jade elbows her for saying that, and you don’t get it. On her couch with John, you watch Kanaya stare at their interaction with what looks like slight jealousy, though you know only you can read it as that. Not jealousy over any romantic relationship happening there – though who knows, they’re sitting pretty damn close – but the one where she feels like she wishes she already knew them.

You also think that you’d like to let Feraligatr rest a bit longer than a few hours. His health status barely ticks from BSI controlled fights, which is why you didn’t even think about bringing him into the impromptu Rocket scuffle. But still, it’s been almost six years since you’ve competed with him. The older he gets, Porrim’s warned you, the less effective the BSI’s numbing mechanism will be. The decline could be quite rapid, so you had to be careful.

You should probably go check on him to make sure his dreams are safe.

“Yeah,” you say to Rose. If anything, you’ll try to exhaust Growlithe and Pyukumuku first. You know the latter has been dying to use her infamous stall strategy again. Every trial leader you took on sort of hated you for it, except Sollux, who openly hated you for it. "Tonight's good."

“I’ll let Dave know to tell you when to send the request,” Rose says.

John, whose couch arm is next to yours, starts asking you what life is like on Alola, which you have a hard time explaining in a way that doesn’t sound boring, only because your life has been for a sweep, and all of your favorite places on the islands are intertwined with your Gamzee memories. Across from you, all of a sudden, Rose and Kanaya are gone – standing by the front doors, you quickly find – and next to you, Dave gets up and goes to sit next to Jade, talk to her.

You’re trying to pay attention to what John is saying while also trying to read Rose’s lips from here, which you’re horrible at. Rose then announces that she’s leaving, “Already?” John asks, but she doesn’t explain before letting herself out. Jade whispers something in Dave’s ear, and he laughs hysterically.

Which throws you for a loop, the full brush of his smile, the warmth he radiates. You went from no expression to a lot of it in one moment, and you think you feel that thing Kanaya felt earlier.

Kanaya, meanwhile, is standing at the doors wide-eyed, and then excuses herself to the room.

You stand to follow her, tell everyone left that you need to check on your sleeping Feraligatr, and chase her up the stairs.

Kanaya is pacing when you find her, and Feraligatr shows no dream bubbles.

“She asked me to go to her house. Gym. Apartment. Thing.”

Seriously?

“Seriously? What for?”

“We were talking about books because she asked if I was a reader and I said not really and she said you have to be and I told her the name of this one that I liked and she said she had a lot like it and that I could see them right now if I wanted to and – ”

“Shoosh.”

Kanaya stops pacing. You said it as a habit, leftover Gamzee shit, sort of hate yourself for it. She knows you didn’t mean it like that.

“But what does it all _mean?”_ Kanaya laments.

“Sounds like she just wants to show you some fucking books.”

You don’t tell her that it’s obviously more than that.

“Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “You’re right.”

She then walks swiftly out the door.

> Be Kanaya, fifteen minutes later

Switching your bioluminescence back off, you stand at the entrance of Rose’s gym, waiting for her to retrieve you. When you see her coming through the glass double doors, you stupidly think that you should’ve changed clothes.

She’s changed into a strapless black dress to the knee, a statement necklace with cerulean stones, nicer shoes than yours, while you have on the wrinkled skirts and blouse you changed into after you rushed back in from Pallet. In all your trying to calm yourself, which is mostly working, for now, you’d forgotten these very important details.

“The doors were open for you,” Rose says, as she opens them. “I figured you would just come up yourself, but it’s not like you’d inherently know to use the elevator.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“No problem. I’m the one full of sorrow.” She smiles a bit, in contrast. “Come in.”

> Follow her in

The gym itself is darkened, as you turn left in the foyer for the elevator. As you wait for it to descend, you stare at her back as your bloodpusher nearly beats its way out of your chest. Does she want to talk to you about something in particular, possibly secret, unrelated to books? Why did she ask you here alone? She easily could’ve come here and brought them back to you.

You’d heard of Rose before she became a leader. The Strilalonde family was thrust into the spotlight when Rose’s mother died after Mewtwo’s lab explosion. You were heartbroken when you saw the story on the news, the two pretty girls crying behind their father being interviewed on TV. You had to watch certain channels just to follow what was happening with the scientist’s survivors after that, and you’d even started reading certain tabloids, discovering that the parents were already famous before.

When her dad died two years later, Rose herself gave a high profile interview at just twelve. No longer was the lovely girl crying, but rather, hard and particular, questioning the interviewers more than they could question her, about how much they really knew about Ghosts, and her family, among other things. You then watched her move forward in photo and video, as she became a fashion model at fourteen, and among the youngest to almost beat Champion Gary at fifteen.

When she was hand selected by Misty to take over the Cerulean gym at sixteen, she was thrust into an even bigger spotlight than before, handling all the fame with grace as far as you could tell. She only blossomed in wit, appearance, and Pokémon skill the older she grew, becoming a total knockout at twenty two who was breaking your heart in much more adult ways.

> Ride the elevator, enter Rose’s apartment

Her apartment is beautifully constructed – the inner architecture reminds you of Gothic buildings you’ve seen in history texts – but it’s messier than you imagined, or at least, the living/dining room is. The walls of bookshelves are full, so she has other books and looseleaf pages stacked in high piles haphazardly, blankets and blouses draped carelessly over couches, pooling on the hardwood floor. Nor does she apologize for the room’s appearance at all.

Your heroes can’t be perfect. It sort of adds to the charm, you think, though you have to aggressively fight the urge to fold the blankets and shirts.

At her dining table for two, Rose has poured you each several glasses of red wine, as you’ve discussed her experiences with the Nightmares, the alleged books never even RSVPing. She doesn’t tell you much about her own Nightmares, but rather, how each of her favorite Pokémon have been reacting to theirs.

Galarian Rapidash, Gothielle, and Malamar, the three psychics, have been having the worst of them. Her Cloyster has only had about one a month, but the effects have been causing him to close himself in his shell for longer than usual. Jellicent, meanwhile, has had none, and she delves a bit into the history of how she found her.

Swimming in the moat around Cerulean Cave when she was twelve – from the date she gives, you know this was the night of that notable interview you saw of her – she was shocked when she saw the pink, glowing form underwater, and Jellicent started to drag her too deep with one of its tentacles.

She would’ve drowned, she says, were it not for Jellicent’s sudden change of heart, for reasons she still doesn’t know. The change of heart went further than just allowing her to live. Somehow, for reasons she doesn’t tell, the experience bonded them.

You try to hold in your yawn – you do _not_ want her to think that any of this is boring you, and you shouldn’t even remotely be tired yet – but you fail to do so, cover your mouth. She doesn’t look offended at all.

“Sorry about that,” you manage. “Human soporifics make me sleepy.”

Rose smiles. “They make us sleepy too. Or dramatic, weepy and incomprehensible.”

“I hope you didn’t take that as an expression of ingratitude for your hospitality.”

“You worry a lot about impressing and taking care of others, don’t you?”

That flusters you. She’s observant and direct, as much as you always imagined, but experiencing it is another matter.

“I suppose so. Call it a genetic defect or asset depending on the situation.”

“I’ve always thought you had the most stunning blood color. Not that you’re inherently superior for its aesthetic beauty, but there is something to be said about your hue’s tireless dedication to propagating the species. Though I imagine, since you’re very far from home, you aren’t currently deputized.”

You shake your head. “You know Porrim Maryam?”

“Of course. Who doesn’t?”

You pick the necklace bearing your sign from under your shirt collar, where it always hides. Porrim had them made for you both before you both realized you didn’t necessarily want to become her.

“I should’ve known,” Rose says. “You have that same presence when you walk into a room.”

“But yeah you must know she was the first to turn down or better yet defy a position at the Paradise. There is no law forcing us but it is frowned upon.”

“I’d say frowned upon is an understatement, no?”

“She definitely has a faction of very loud online Jade haters who I think would be after me if more of them knew who I was. And if I had Twitter.”

“I certainly didn’t know who you were.” Rose circles a finger around the rim of her glass. She hasn’t once broken eye contact with you. It’s very intimidating. “So what was your life like on Alola, after you declined? How did you escape the same scrutiny she faced?”

“Mostly the same and, well, because she was the first she took more heat than the rest of us would.”

“There are more of you?”

“A few.” You have no idea why she thinks this is interesting. “I was already working on building my breeding business so the xenoreproductive council I guess figured that was still noble. When I mailed my declination I never got a response like some of the others have. Porrim on the other hand delivered hers in person with. Colorful language.”

“But the work that Porrim’s done as Professor Oak’s successor is, not to be hyperbolic, revolutionary. I suppose I am biased for living in the region where her work is most felt, but our Dex technology was becoming outdated, at least in comparison to regions like Kalos and Galar, though I don’t fault the seventy year old, lifelong researcher for feeling a little fatigue. Ten year olds can be needy.”

You don’t know what to say, suddenly. Rose takes a sip, tilting her head back slow, and wow a human’s neck should not be that appealing.

Your blood appetite has been strictly troll flavored so far. You’re glad no one but Karkat knows that you always carry vials of your willing victims’ blood. You only have a few sources, some of the women you know from schoolfeeding, but they let you gradually extract a hoard from them.

“Having a more complex anatomical makeup makes trolls the most forward thinking researchers there are,” Rose continues. “You aren’t afraid to push boundaries, ask the deeply mystifying questions about Pokémon that others won’t. Knowledge is, objectively, limitless, and your brains – sorry, thinkpans – have several times the sheer capacity for intelligence and logical work than ours do. It’s just science.

“They don’t publish this much in the news around here, of course, as they’re much more concerned with my wins and what I wear, but I’ve always been the biggest devotee of your species’ story. And, given that I know your ancestry, it’s accurate to say it is your story.”

You shrug. “I don’t feel much connection to her to be honest. I don’t know if she would think I was impressive much if she could meet me now.”

“Why not?”

“Um.”

  
Perhaps now is not the time to delve into your flighty insecurities.

“I think you’re selling yourself short,” Rose says. Her foot brushes your shin beneath the table as she readjusts her posture. Your thinkpan temporarily goes haywire. “I haven’t known you for long, but you’re very poised and obviously brave. You’re here with me, after all.”

Wait. What does she mean by that?

“What do you mean by that.”

“Dave may have told me that Karkat told him that you’ve been an admirer of mine from afar.”

Oh, god. If humiliation was a motorbike, it just leaped over a canyon. The crowd goes wild with dismay, then shames you specifically. She must think you’re just another fan with an embarrassing, unrealistic pine. You know Karkat wouldn’t have divulged the details of the “shrine,” as he calls it – though he does seem unusually willing to share personal details with Dave, and is it a crime to have several dozen posters?

“Don’t worry, Kanaya.” Rose smiles again. Hearing her say your name is completely unreal, your face is so hot, you’re sure its stained deep. You’re so transparent. “I’m flattered, really. Most of my fans are so disconnected from my adult life, only shown what I allow the cameras to see, that it can be hard to understand why I have such admiration. Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t broadcast my gory fictional writings of the zoologically dubious – not Pokémon, just to be clear – so the world can know I’m just as dark and brooding as everyone else is capable of. If not especially so.”

You suddenly want very much to read this writing.

“What do you want in life?” she says to you then. “Imagine yourself at your intimate peak, surrounded by the things you’ve always dreamed of most.”

God, she asks the most romantic questions without even lifting a finger.

You have known exactly what you wanted since you were ten. You have always been stunned by the beauty that Grass Pokémon offer this world. You have always wanted to showcase them at their best, along with the nature they tend to, imitate, and spread joy with. Your more wishful-thinking fantasies also involve a certain woman who you could care for.

“I have always wanted to have a greenhouse. Filled with Grass Pokémon and natural forestry and every fruit and floral seed I can find. Sort of like what Jade is doing with the bed and breakfast but a lot bigger no offense to her. I’d like to own it, as a museum to the public.”

Rose’s leg touches yours again, but this time you know it’s intentional. You reach for your wine glass out of a pulse of anxiety and knock the rest of it over onto the table, jumping back out of your chair as Rose barely reacts.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Please, it’s alright.” In a feat of whimsy that surprises you, she stands and uses the skirts of her black dress to wipe up the red wine, showing you her thigh, _and oh kill you she’s wearing garters on her legs that you didn’t think could be anymore perfect._

“Do you want more?” she asks, smiling and winking, picking the wine bottle up.

You aren’t sure you should on account of the very good chance you’ll knock it over again – you’re barely even buzzed after four glasses because alcohol hits trolls at a glacial pace in comparison to humans – but you couldn’t refuse her anything. You probably just won’t touch it to protect the table’s lifespan.

“Okay. Sure.”

She pours your glass for you, and now you think she’s really doing this on purpose, leaning over especially so. You’re going to die here, RIP to your Grass army who will be orphans. You know Karkat wouldn’t keep them all, after waiting a respectable amount of time after your death.

Rose walks up to you – she smells so good – and offers her hand to greet you back to the table. Your hands are still fucking shaking but you do it anyway, hoping she’ll say something about whatever is happening that’s making you feel dizzy so you can stop convincing yourself she’s doing this on purpose or –

She applies tension to your handhold when you start to sit, as if to keep you up, so you stay.

“I’m sorry, you must get this all the time and it must be annoying.” She looks away for a moment, the first time she has while speaking to you; a flutter of lashes, darkened bronze on her cheeks from her buzz shining in the light. She looks at you again. “But you are absolutely beautiful.”

Your knees literally buckle, and she notices, applying tension to your hand again.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“I-I’ve just thought you were the most beautiful person in the world for a long time.”

Rose laces her fingers through yours.

“It feels like I’ve met you before,” she says, coming a step closer. “I know I haven’t, unless you happened to come to one of my exhibitions?”

“N-no, I could never work up the courage.”

“Are you afraid of me?”

This relaxes you suddenly, because she looks a touch like she thinks you may not want this attention from her, a little embarrassed, though she still holds your hand. Like hell if you don’t want to live what you thought was an impossible dream, even for one night only if that’s what she desires.

Focus, Kanaya. Rose is obviously making a move. You know how to do this. Sort of. You’ve courted several other women you liked a lot less.

“I’m afraid I’m simply acting as one of your fangirls who doesn’t know you but feels like she does.”

Rose comes closer then, so close that less than a foot separates your bodies.

“You are free to get to know me as much as you’d like.”

You try to be bold, as bold as you’ve always admired her for. You draw her close enough that she’s in your arms; yours fall to a safe distance between her upper back and the soft curve of her waist, as hers come up to loop around your neck, startling the skin she touches there. You can smell her blood this close and wow you really do not need to be thinking of that right now. You know what you want more than that.

> Kiss her already

You fail to kiss her already, but she acquiesces, getting your point, does it for you. You don’t believe in magic, but you’ve never felt anything so supernatural coarse through you, make you feel as though you’re weightless. You close your eyes and savor the moment, trying to keep yourself from crying because you’ve already fucked up a lot here, not that you think she cares about the ones she’s seen so far.

Rose pulls back from you, a sheen of sweat on her cheekbones. She smiles deliciously, licking her lips, and lolls her head back to release a happy sigh.

“Who knew a pandemic would bring you to my porchfront.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! And here is my [#pokemonstuck tag](https://choicescarfsylveon.tumblr.com/tagged/pokemonstuck) on Tumblr, where I've been sketching some art for this verse


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